


Inconvenience

by Stone_Heart



Series: Inconvenience [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Tall Yuri, Weddings, With braids, Yuuri Katsuki is the best husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stone_Heart/pseuds/Stone_Heart
Summary: Yuuri is currently training for his third season with Victor as his coach. But one night, Victor gets a call from someone he hasn't seen in 15 years, and this completely derails his plans.





	1. Some things are meant to stay in the past

**Author's Note:**

> It's really late, but I just had to get this down.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> (It's unedited) *Cheeky Phitchit Face*
> 
> EDIT: BTW, if you are looking for the song Yuuri is skating to, it is 'Chopin Nocturne Op. 72, No. 1 in E minor'

“Again, Yuuri.” Echoed the voice from across the ice. “Try pulling your arms in just a bit tighter to help you spin faster.”

Yuuri glared at the ice. It was pressing into his cheek like a slap to the face. When he rubbed it, the skin was cool to the touch.

Victor cocked his head to the side. A look of concern flickered on his face.

“Do you need to take a break?”

Yuuri stood up, and felt his knees click unpleasantly. It hurt for a moment, but then he righted himself. For a moment he glided on the ice, testing his legs, moving his weight from foot to foot.

“No, I think I’m good.” He said.

“Be careful. We don’t want a sprain, do we?” Said Victor, smiling at him. He reached over to the CD player, and paused it. “I’ll start it again when you’re in position.”

He nodded, gliding to the middle of the rink. He closed his eyes, waiting for the first line of broken quavers to begin. At the first note, he moved forward with his right leg, pulling his arms up like he was in prayer. This then moved into a lunge, his chest thrust forward. He opened his eyes, doing a quick spin.

In a few seconds, after the crossover, he would place his arm over his eyes. _Come on,_ he told himself. _It’s exactly what I just did. Just with my arm up._ Left, right, then a crossover. Arm tight over his eyes.

“Great Job! Now carry it through.” Called Victor.

 _Into a scratch spin._ He said, arm still blocking his vision. He felt the world twirl around him, but with no sight it was impossible to see where he was or how fast he was spinning. Yuuri fell into a sitting spin, his leg out. He could hear the edge of the skate screaming against the ice.

He pulled himself upright, then moved forward. _Am I near the barrier?_ He questioned. It wouldn’t have been the first time he smacked into the side of it today. The bruises were already forming along his shoulder and hip.

Spread eagle. Damn. He would need to do an Ina Bauer as a lead in to his jump if he wanted additional points. He bit his lip at his mistake.

“You can always fix it later.” Said Victor, brushing it off.

In a moment, he threw his arm from his face, opening his eyes. The light burned, but he made a point to open them, taking in a large breath of air before his back inside edge left the ice for the air.

The outside edge of his other foot snapped onto the ice on his fourth rotation. He felt the shock of the landing travel up his leg, but held steady in his pose. He couldn’t help the grin that struck his face, and he laughed, coming up from his lungs like bubbles about to burst. It disrupted his spin almost completely and he landed again with his butt on the ice.

“Yuuri!” Cried Victor, his eyes lighting up. He clapped enthusiastically. “That was perfect!”

“That was amazing!” Said Yuuri. He just couldn’t help himself. “But you make it look so easy.”

Victor shook his head. “But it was never as graceful as that.” He pulled Yuuri into a tight hug, breathing him in. “That’s enough for today.”

Yuuri agreed. He felt a burn in his thigh, and he didn’t really want to make that worse. Victor leaned down to pull off his skates. The music played in the background, having reached a soft point. The gentle piano echoed around the empty rink. One of the large lights high above was flickering.

A kiss was pressed against his skate.

“Being all romantic all of a sudden?” Said Yuuri, his cheeks irrepressibly heating, which had absolutely everything to do with the difficult short program he had just done and nothing to do with the warm glow in Victor’s eyes.

“I’m very proud of you today, Yuuri.” He said, his voice impossibly smooth. His grey hair was covering his eyes, but Yuuri could still see them crinkling with delight.

“Are you?” Said Yuuri coyly.

“Very.” Said Victor, looking up as he pulled his skate off. It was a second after he saw the red marks when he felt the pain. Victor pressed a finger delicately onto one, quickly jerking away when Yuuri hissed. “You’ll put ice on this when we get home. The swelling is probably painful.”

After last year’s unfortunate fall a week after the Grand Prix, they always kept spare ice packs in the freezer, and heat packs in the cupboard.

“Are you okay to walk? Or should I carry you?” He smirked, pulling Yuuri’s shoes back on, always gentle.

“I’m 25.” Said Yuuri. “Besides, won’t you need to conserve your strength for later tonight?”

It hit him like a wave, and Yuuri held back a grin at the pink that dusted his pale ears and nose. That had clearly made Victor a lot happier and a lot more eager to return home. “Who taught you to be that smooth?” He breathed out, beaming.

“I don’t know.” Said Yuuri leaning in close. “But I should definitely marry that person, whoever they are.”

Leaning against the barrier, they exchanged a heated kiss. The plastic dug into Yuuri’s back, but he didn’t care enough to move. Victor’s hands came up to caress his neck and cheek. The leather was soft against his skin, supple and warm. He sighed into the kiss, the heat pooling in his stomach.

Yuuri was the first to pull away. Victor had always left him breathless.

“Let’s get back home.” Yuuri said, lungs pulling air into his body as if he had been submerged. Victor laughed, giving him one last kiss before he leaned down to tie Yuuri’s laces.

 

*

 

Back at Yu-topia, they had settled in. Yuuri’s old room had been changed into a room for customers. All of his stuff had been shifted into Victor’s room, now their shared room. It was smaller in comparison to his large apartment in Russia, and had the added inconvenience of having thin paper walls, but it was where Yuuri was, so he didn’t really mind.

Victor still remembered when he had seen all the posters that had initially been stuffed under Yuuri’s bed. He had tried to hide them, but Victor had coaxed them out of his hands. Yuuri had almost been trembling, half smile half dread. Victor grinned, remembering when he was younger and he had posters on his walls. How would he have reacted if his role model had seen them? Victor smiled, and kissed Yuuri’s cheek, calming his nerves.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Said Yuuri, fingers fumbling on the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Not at all, _solnyshko_.” He said, flipping through the posters. Quite a lot of them had him with long hair. Just looking at the collection that Yuuri had collected sent a thrill through him that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was narcissistic, he would admit that. But it was so endearing to see how Yuuri had reacted. His face was bright red, and he was stuttering. Yuuri buried his face into Victor’s jumper, groaning.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“Nonsense!” Said Victor, picking up one of his most recent posters. This was the one where he had been skating ‘Stay Close to Me’. The very program that had finally convinced Victor to coach him. “I think it’s cute.”

“Of course you think it’s cute.” Mumbled Yuuri, looking up at him. “But that doesn’t make it any less awful for me.”

“It can’t be that bad, seeing that I’m yours now.” Yuuri shrugged.

“It has its perks.” The gold rings gleamed in the morning light once more.

After that, they had been fairly open with each other. Yuuri didn’t hide his affection at all. In public, it was different. Both Russian and Japanese culture tended not to indorse public displays of affection, so they didn’t feel the need to do more than hold hands occasionally. Once they were home, Yuuri would seemingly be glued to his side, constantly kissing and vying for his attention. It was a strange dichotomy, yet one that Victor was thrilled to see.

Right now, he was clinging to Victor’s arm, nuzzled into his side. He slept on his stomach with an arm thrown across Victor’s midsection. He murmured into the muscle on Victor’s arm.

Victor yawned, gently pulling himself away from Yuuri as to not wake him up. The spring air was still cool, and he felt it creep into his bones.

“Hnnnn,” slurred Yuuri, his eyes opening. “ _Vitya_?”

“Shhh, it’s nothing.” He said, pulling the blanket back over him. “I’ll be back in a second, go back to sleep.”

“It’s nothin’.” Echoed Yuuri, closing his eyes again and snuggling into the blankets warmed by Victor’s body.

Victor felt a smile curl up the side of his mouth. He reached for his phone and left the bedroom in a hurry. _What had woken him up?_ He wondered, moving to the bathroom downstairs, where he wouldn’t wake anyone up.

He moved in the darkness as quickly and quietly as he could until he reached the bathroom. Pulling the door shut behind him, he unlocked his phone.

As he thought. Someone had called him in the middle of the night. _Who on earth is calling at this hour?_ It couldn’t be anyone he knew, even Chris knew to be considerate of the time. He clicked onto missed calls. It was from an unknown number.

 _Probably a mistake._ He thought. _But I should call anyway. It could be important._ He dreaded to think if the call had come from Yakov, as that would mean something had really gone wrong.

He pulled the phone up to his ear, and waited for the mystery caller to pick up.

_Bzzzzz_

_Bzzzzz_

_Bzzzzz_

_Bzzzzz-_

“Hello?” Said a feminine voice, in Russian. “Who is this?”

“This is Viktor Nikiforov, who am I speaking to?” He replied formally. If this was a fan that had gotten his number, he could at least be polite.

“Vitya!” Said the voice. Victor felt something swell inside him.

“мамочка?” He said, confused. There was only three people in this world that cared for him enough to use his name that way.

“Vitya, it’s been so long, and I just needed to talk to you.” His mother said gently over the phone. “I understand how you must feel, as it has been a very long time, but I don’t think that I would ever be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask you this.”

“What is it?” He said softly. “It’s been fifteen years,” he said, a lump building in his throat.

“Viktor, I rejected you.” Said the woman over the line. “But I think I’m at a point now where I can understand you.” He felt goose bumps trail all up his spine.

“Please, elaborate.” He said coolly.

“I wasn’t a good mother. I left you with him when I should have supported you. I didn’t know what I was doing.” She said pitifully. “But I was trying to do what I thought was right at the time. I didn’t think that you would be like that forever.”

“Like what, Мама?” He said.

“With men. I thought it was bad enough when you were younger. I didn’t know it would persist.” Victor could almost feel his stomach twisting in his belly. He wanted to turn off the call, to block the number, to pretend that this had never happened. On the other hand, anger would never solve anything.

“You thought leaving me with Yakov would do that?” He said, chuckling. Yakov had been one of his biggest supporters. He wasn’t particularly fond of his attraction to men, but he didn’t care either. Yakov protected him in his younger days, when he was more reckless, and eager to throw his life away. Yakov guided him through the rough patches in his life. He didn’t mind when Victor had come home crying with a broken heart at 17. He hadn’t said anything. He pulled him out of the cold into a hug, and didn’t let go until the tears had dried on his cheeks.

“ _You didn’t need that Ублюдок anyway. He’s an idiot.”_ He had said, placing a cup of warm soup in front of him. “ _Eat. It will help.”_

Yakov had been more of a parent than his mother had ever been. But he pushed down his anger, deep so that he could focus on everything else.

“I had to do something.” She said. “I thought I had to do something. But I am trying my best to understand you, Vitya. It is hard for me, you must know this.” She sighed over the line. “You sound different than when you are on television.”

“You’ve seen my events?” He asked.

“All of them.” His mother said. “Every last one.”

“Then you’ve seen Yuuri.” He stated.

The line was quiet for a moment, only the sound of rustling from the other side. “Yes, I have seen this Yuuri.”

“Then you must know what he means to me.” Victor said. He didn’t even feel nervous when he said it. He had shown his love for Yuuri to the world. His mother was no different. “If you have been watching every event, there is no way for you not to understand.”

“I understand what he is to you.” She stated quietly.

“You can’t even say the word.”

“You married him.” She said. “I know. I’ve seen the wedding photos online.” His grip on the phone tightened, but that was a primary, physical reaction. He felt calm. He had had years to process her leaving himself.

“I love him мамочка.” He said, emotions trickling over.

“I know.”

“I live in Japan with him мамочка.”

“I know.” She said, sounded dejected.

“I fuck him. I make love to him-”

“I realise that.” She said, gritting her teeth. “Stop trying to get a reaction out of me.” She paused for a moment. “I want to see you again, Vitya. I don’t care if you never want to see me again after that. But I want to meet you again to say sorry for all I’ve done. You need to know that.”

“What makes you think I’ll agree to that?” Said Victor. “I live happily here without you. I’ve lived without you for 15 years. What makes you think I need you now?”

“You don’t need me Viktor, but I need you.” She insisted. “Just once more. I need to see you again. Then you can go, and you never even need to think of me again. You don’t even need to see me as a mother.”

“You were never a mother.” He said, voice steady. Hands relaxed. Anger down.

“Maybe. But I still brought you into this world, so let me have one selfish request.” She took a deep breath. “And I would also like to meet Yuuri.”

Victor felt the air leave him. He wanted to wait until he was calm. He didn’t want to make decisions out of spite or anger. That didn’t suit him, and usually made things worse. Talking to her would only make things worse for him. He needed to wait, to calm down.

“мамочка, I need to call you back. I don’t think we can talk right now.”

“I don’t want to lose you again Vitya.”

“That’s not something you can control right now Мама.” He said, palms beginning to sweat. “I will need to call you back before I can make any decisions. I’ll talk to Yuuri, if that makes you feel any better about being a shitty mother. But you don’t deserve any of my time.”

“Vitya-“

He turned off his phone. The lump in his throat and the twisting of his stomach did nothing to curb the sudden desire to vomit.

He emptied his stomach into the toilet, and leaned against the tiles. The cold would help him regain a sense of reality. It was late, and there wasn’t much left, but he wiped his mouth, and brushed his teeth again. It was as if he had been shot, and he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

15 years. He hadn’t heard her voice for 15 years, and yet it was so still and clear in his memory he could almost feel it.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had visited him once or twice after dumping him onto Yakov. But that had still been a very long time ago.

He didn’t feel the urge to cry though. Victor use to cry a lot when thinking of his mother. The sadness and attachment had worn off after 10 years of disappointment.

He made his way back upstairs, feeling suddenly tired. His limbs were surprisingly cool, and he shivered. His legs dragged, like he had run a mile. He crawled underneath the blanket, feeling the warmth of his husband.

Tears began to gather at the corners of his eyes, and he felt a sob wrack through him. It was heavy, like something that was lodged inside him finally came out, and with that all this long lost grief he had built a wall around years ago.

He turned away from Yuuri, trying to keep quiet. He breathed in and out heavily, attempting to regain control over his shaking body. A hand came to his shoulder.

“Victor? Hey, Victor!” Said Yuuri, leaning over him. Even in the dark, you would have been able to see the flash of concern over his face. Yuuri felt his heart clench in pain. “Victor, what’s wrong?”

There was no point in hiding it.

So he told him everything. Everything from what she had said to him, about how she hadn’t truly spoken to him in 15 years. About how he had just woken up because of a call, and how he was unsure that it had even happened because it just didn’t feel real to act this way.

Yuuri gathered him up, and held onto him like he was about to fall apart. “Victor, it’s going to be fine.”

“She left me.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

“She didn’t care about me.”

“I care so much for you.”

“I was so alone for so long!”

“And you will never be alone again!”

After some time, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

“We can talk about this more in the morning.”

“Is there anything I can do now?” Offered Yuuri.

“Just stay close to me.”

So he did.


	2. Warm hugs wont fix your Mommy issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor comes to a decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter, but I can always edit it later, I suppose.
> 
> Enjoy!

As he had said, it was a long time ago.

Victor remembered how it had been autumn. The leaves were scattered around him, blowing in the wind, as his mother wrapped a large blue scarf around his neck. “We wouldn’t want you getting sick in this weather now, would we!” She said, a bit eerily.

Was he fourteen? Or thirteen? It must have been just before Christmas. Thirteen, he nodded. That was it.

Even though he struggled to remember the day, he remembered her face as clearly as if it was his own. I mean, how could he not? It was burned into his retinas.

Her black hair, in stark contrast with his own grey, was tied up tightly in a bun. Bits were sticking out, and the wind tossed and pulled on the dark strands. She had put her make up on in a hurry, and there was a single smudge of eyeliner on her white cheekbones.

“Come now, I’ll take you to practice.” She told him. But something had been different. She didn’t look at him with warmth. Her eyes were cold and watery.

He was busy growing out his hair, and had to tuck it into his fur hat. It already was reaching his shoulders, he realised.

They held hands to stay close to each other. The wind had been terrible that day, and the cold went right through his woollen sweater. He leaned against her to keep warm, but she shifted away.

“You’ll be fine, it’s not that cold.” She said, frowning. Goose bumps were all up and down her legs, but he didn’t question her. He didn’t want to question her. His Мама had always had a bit of a temper.

“It’s really early for practice.” He commented, watching the people pass by on the other side of the road. He shuffled in his shoes, and she glared.

“Don’t kick the ground, you’ll ruin your shoes.” Мама pulled his hand tight. It hurt. He wanted to pull away. But he didn’t. It would only make her pull even tighter.

Мама had been quiet over the last few days. A boy from school, who he couldn’t even remember the name of now, had come over. They had clearly gotten close, and Victor remembers kissing him sloppily in the living room. His mother wasn’t supposed to come over until dinner, so he didn’t worry too much about that. But then he heard the shuffle at the door, and didn’t pull away until he heard a gasp from the kitchen.

The shock of her face was nothing to what the boy beside him looked like, lips kissed red, expression wide. He was clearly frightened as Мама chased him out of the house.

She didn’t mention anything about it after that.

Perhaps she had just put it away, and chose to ignore it. That was reasonable, right?

They bought a ticket for the train, and half an hour later they arrived.

“Алёна, you’re early!” Said the gruff voice of his coach. “Take off your shoes and come inside. The slippers are on the second shelf.”

“Яков.” She replied, pulling on a spare pair of slippers. “Hurry up, you will catch a cold.” She said to him. He nodded.

The house seemed small. The walls were cramped in, and there was little space to move around. But it was warm.

“Sit down, I’ll bring you something to eat.” Said Яков. “Tea, bread? Sit down.”

“That should be fine.” She said stiffly. He brought over a tray, and poured her a glass. She sipped nonchalantly. “Яков, I need you to take care of Viktor.”

“What?” Said the old man. “I don’t have room here.”

“I don’t care if you don’t have room. It won’t be for too long.” She said, rolling her eyes. “I will come back. But it is just for now.”

His coach grumbled. “You can’t guilt me into this. Leave him with family.”

“I don’t have family that will take him. Яков, have pity on a young lady. He won’t be a problem. He can clean.” Her fingers clutched onto her tea cup. She looked intense, furious and collected. “Do this Яков. I’ll be away for a few days for business. Don’t disappoint me now.”

“Disappoint you?” He said, eyebrow raised. “You sound like your aunt-in-law. Don't you think this is at all selfish? You are asking me to take care of your son, yet you don’t seem to care at all about anyone else.” He muttered into his tea. “Go to your sister.”

“She lives far away. And she doesn’t know Vitya. That will never work.” She placed the tea cup back on the table before fixing her gaze on him. “Please, Яков!”

“Fine, but you better pay me when you get back.” He said, nodding.

Victor looked upon the scene with confusion. He hugged his mother. She pushed him away after a few seconds, giving him a short kiss to the head, and then she was gone.

He didn’t see her again for a year.

At first, Yakov didn’t mind him. He was a good boy, he was smart and he got good grades at school. Yakov was cold, at first.

After a week, he tried to contact his mother with the number she had given, but had no luck.

After a month, he began to worry. Yakov took him to practise after school, where he would spend hours just skating until Yakov was done coaching his other students.

After three months, they had tried everything, but it was as if she had just disappeared with the wind that day. He and Yakov went to the apartment that he had lived in, but it had been cleared out. He remembered crying again, and rubbing his eyes. He was fourteen. He shouldn’t be crying.

After five months, Yakov had yelled at him. He couldn’t remember what he had done wrong. His wife had separated them after a row, sending him to his room. He had been given the attic. It was small and cramped. It was like his life had slowly gotten more and more awful, and every step taking more and more away from him. Why had his mother left him? Was he really that horrible?

After a year, they moved into a bigger house. He had his own room now. Yakov and his wife had a divorce, and she moved out. The bigger house seemed empty now. Victor would skate for hours a day. He was getting really good. The first time he had done a quad, Yakov was so proud that he had almost smiled. After that, he had begun to call him Vitya. He got a call from his mother, where she had promised to come get him. She never did.

After two years, he barely cried that much anymore. He had accepted that he wouldn’t get all the answers. The public was starting to become aware of him. For the first time, he felt the cool gold metal touch his chest, and from then on it was like an addiction. He needed to skate. It was his fuel, his drive to live. Front page after front page, he grew in fame and popularity and prowess. Nothing could hold him back from the top, and there was nowhere to go but up. When he slid on those skates, it was like slipping on a mask. He smiled and grinned, and was genuinely happy.

Yakov stopped worrying about payment for taking care of him around his second gold medal.

“It looks like this really did pay off. You will go far, Vitya.” Victor hugged him tightly.

“Thank you Yasha. I couldn’t have done anything without you.”

After that, he had told Yakov why his mother had left him. Or at least, why he thought she had left him. He didn’t really have any clues besides her attitude after she had seen him with that boy. Yakov listened, and when he was done, he was silent. He thanked Victor for telling him.

“Your mother is disloyal.” He had said, teeth clenched over his dinner. “You stick by family. You don’t leave family.”

“She clearly didn’t see me as her son after that then.” Said Victor, grimacing.

“I’m not happy with this.” Said Yakov. “I’m not happy with this at all. I will not lie to you. I don’t like this. But,” he said, chewing his food. “I would never abandon a child over such a small thing.”

“I shouldn’t have done it.” Said Victor, looking away. “I’m sorry Yakov.”

“Never be sorry, boy.” Grumbled Yakov. “You didn’t ask for this. Nobody with any sense of himself would ask for that.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Don’t you dare say sorry again. This is a small thing. I don’t care about that.” Yakov hugged him again. He was warm, and Victor allowed the tension to seep out of his shoulders. He let out a shuddery breath. The old man sighed. “Vitya, I don’t care. Did you hear me?”

He nodded against his shoulder. His mother’s hugs had been cold. Yakov was always warm.

“A mother is supposed to be able to die for her children. You have nothing to be ashamed of, not with me.” That was the first time anyone had said anything like that to him. He choked down the tears, but he was smiling. He was so lucky to have someone like Yakov.

The years had flown by. He received a letter one New Year’s, but had thrown it out before he could read it.

Other than that, no contact was made. Nothing was planned. He lived with Yakov until he was twenty, and then he moved out. He didn’t hold many stable relationships, and it was mostly about the sex rather than romance or companionship. He bought a dog to keep him company, and Makkachin was wonderful, but something in his life was missing.

Until Yuuri.

 

*

 

“Victor?” Said Yuuri, knocking on the sliding door. “I brought you breakfast! My mum made natto.” Victor leaned up, and smiled. He brought it over to the bedside table. “She said it was okay if you eat in bed just once. Just be careful with the miso soup, it’s really hot.”

“Thank you Yuuri.” He said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Asked Yuuri. Only a year ago, he wouldn’t have been as forward.

“I don’t know, it’s difficult to talk about my mother.”

“You’ve never mentioned her before. I didn’t want to bring it up.” Said Yuuri meekly. He crossed his legs on the bed, and sat across from Victor. “You never mentioned your parents in interviews either.”

“I tried to avoid it.”

“I don’t know the full story, Victor.” Said Yuuri. He was determined today. “All I know is that you haven’t spoken to her in a long time.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. Yakov pretty much raised me. She left me on his doorstep when I was thirteen.”

Yuuri’s face was like a canvas at times. Victor could see every emotion dancing in his expression. He was so open when he wanted to be. “Oh Victor,” he said. “I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter. But she didn’t come back after that. She saw me kissing a boy from school. It was too much to handle. She left me with Yakov. She couldn’t even be around me anymore.”

“That’s horrible Victor.” What else could he say?

“And now she wants me to go back to Russia to meet her?” Victor scoffed. “She knows everything now. She found out about the marriage online. But she left me, why should I care if she knows anything?” He looked over at Yuuri. Yuuri looked almost furious.

“How could she do that to you?” He said, eyes watery. “She was your mother! Why would she leave you for anything?” His cheeks were red, and he glared into his tea.

When Victor had come to Japan, he had been overwhelmed with the love that the Katsuki family seemed to radiate. Hiroko was the polar opposite of Alyona. She carried warmth in every word, and said nothing with the malice his mother did. Where she was warm Alyona was cold. Even in simple ways, the Katsuki’s showed their love for one another, and there was no compensation needed. This was a constant for him. Just the way that they treated each other was full of kindness and care. There was no possible way for Yuuri to understand how this could happen.

“Your family would never do something like that to you. But my mother was different.” He said bitterly. “She cares more about herself than anyone else in this world. Nothing could change that. Don’t cry Yuuri!”

He angrily wiped the tears away from behind his glasses with his sleeves. “I don’t want you to deal with this.”

“Would you like to meet her?”

“What?” Said Yuuri, surprised at the sudden change in tone. “I want to help you with this. I’m not sure that meeting her would help.”

Victor groaned. “I don’t know what I want.” Yuuri placed his tea down, and pulled Victor into his embrace. It was strange. It was typically the other way round, with Yuri feeling bad, and Victor’s arms around him.

“I’m going where you’re going.” He mumbled into his hair.

Victor nodded. “I’ll need to think about this. And I need to call Yakov.”

“Okay.”

“Hmm” He said, pulling up his phone and saving the number. “I’ll call him later. It’s 3am in Russia, I wouldn’t want to wake him up.”

 

*

 

“Yuri!” Shouted Yakov. “Stop fighting with Mila!” He face palmed. Why did he still have to deal with this teenager? He was seventeen, why did he still act like a child?

“She started it, Yakov!” he yelled back, kicking Mila’s leg with his skate.

“I don’t care who started it, focus on your own work!” Mila rolled her eyes.

“Stop getting in my way, hag!”

“Ooo, I’m so scared of the Ice Tiger of Russia!” She said, cackling. “I can’t believe you called yourself that on Instagram!” She laughed so hard it made her wheezy.

“Shut up!” Yakov shouted. “I’m getting sick of you two.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Viktor?”

“Thank god,” said Victor. “I really needed to talk to you. Do you have time?”

Yakov looked over at Mila and Yuri, who had thankfully stopped all their yelling and were now skating on opposite sides of the rink.

“Yes, I am free at the moment.” He said, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“It’s about Алёна.”

Yakov needed to sit down. They never spoke about her. This was clearly something important.

 

*

 

After practise, and after Victor had a long discussion to Yakov, he came to one of the big baths in the back of the resort.

Yuuri was relaxing at the far end of the bath. His eyes were closed, water droplets hanging from his hair that was pushed back. His glasses were beside him.

Victor dropped his towel and slipped into the water. It was always a bit too hot than what he was comfortable with. It licked up his nerves painfully for a few seconds before he was able to adjust.

Yuuri looked up from under his towel, and he leaned in for a kiss.

“How did it go?” Asked Yuuri, pulling away gently. He saw the dark lines underneath his husband’s eyes. He looked tired, as if he had gone eons without proper rest.

“Yakov said he didn’t give her my number. I still don’t know what’s going on,” Yuuri trailed a hand up and down his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into his skin. Victor looked at the hand with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Forget about what I’m doing,” Said Yuuri, coming up behind him and planting a kiss at the blade of his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“I want to go meet her.” He said, quietly. Yuuri ran a thumb down the bumps of his spine. “It’s not for her sake. I want to see her again.”

“Are you doing this for yourself?” Asked Yuuri, pressing his fingers into a knot between Victor’s shoulders and neck.

“Yes. I want to see what she’s like now. I don’t care about what she wants. I just need to get her out of my head.” Yuuri nodded.

“You only spoke to her a day ago. Isn’t it a bit too soon?”

Victor sighed. “I’ve been putting her out of my mind for far too long. Her leaving really did hurt me. For years, I just blocked her presence in my life away.” He felt the emotion build up in his chest again. But Yuuri kissed his neck, then his lips. A hand still lay upon his back, pressing into his muscle in a painful, yet pleasant way. Victor stared back at Yuuri, into his emotive, beautiful brown eyes. “I think if I meet her once more,” he whispered. “I can finally put my… problems with her to rest.”

Yuuri didn’t say anything. He had pushed Victor enough. Anymore, and it would be too much for Victor and himself.

“I want to help you,” breathed Yuuri onto his neck.

“Will you come with me to Russia?” He asked, careful.

Yuuri, often without realising it, tending to be self-sacrificing. He didn’t have the motivation to say no, even when it made him uncomfortable to say yes. But Victor was sure that at this point, Yuuri would give him a truthful answer.

Yuuri nodded. His eyes were bright like starlight and burning wicks. “I’ll come with you.”

Victor turned and hugged Yuuri, holding him close to his chest. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

“I love you, Vitya. Of course I’ll be by your side.”

“I love you too Yuuri.”

They remained intertwined like that, until they grew tired, and left the pool. Finally relaxed, yet unsure how to face the sun tomorrow, they went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do take replies as an indication on how good a story is, so if you did like it, I would love it if you left a message! It really does motivate me to write faster.
> 
> Tell me what you want to see in this story as well. I'm thinking of adding some pre-slash Otayuri, so there is that if you like that sort of thing!


	3. Home is where you can be blackmailed by eight year olds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri go to Russia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm annoyed at the progression of this story. But don't worry people! Within the next two chapters, Victor will finally confront his mother! I did want to put in more, but there is so much I have planned per chapter and only three thousand words to do it in.
> 
> This turned into a fluff chapter, and I didn't even plan it. It's probably fine, I mean, the next two chapters are going to be pretty heavy! So this can be a light breather. I'm sorry if it's not what you expected though!
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains large amounts of fluff and possible underage drinking.
> 
> Enjoy!

“You’re going to go back to Russia?” Cried Yuuko. “Our timing is great then!” Takashi nodded, holding a tired Axel and Loop, whilst Lutz tugged on his leg. “The kids were starving, so we brought them over for supper. I hope that’s okay, Hiroko?”

The woman nodded, placing a heavy pot of tea on the table. “No, dear, this is lovely! We can all have a get-together right before my boys leave!” She smiled at Victor, who returned it whole-heartedly. “Oh, I should call Minako, that girl needs to get out of her studio more often.” She went to the kitchen to make a call.

“Our flight is at 2 am, and the train there takes two hours to get to the airport, so there really is no point in sleeping.” Said Yuuri, giving everyone a pair of chopsticks.

Victor had taken a really long time to get used to using chopsticks. He didn’t know which hand to use, and was constantly dropping everything. He had looked so proud of himself when he was finally able to use them properly. Yuuri gave him an inconspicuous wink as he placed a pair beside his bowl.

Victor couldn’t help but swoon. What had he done to deserve this angel? Because no one this pure could possibly have been made on earth.

He looked over to the opposite end of the table to where the triplets sat, each with a phone in their hands.

“What are you doing?” Said Yuuri, slightly bemused as he went to sit down beside Victor.

“Filming.” Said Loop, peering over her screen.

“Put your phones away, we’re about to eat. You’re being a little rude, you three!” Said Yuuko, making an attempt to grab the phones, but to no avail.

“No, it’s fine!” Cried Yuuri. “I don’t mind.” Victor smirked. Of course, Yuuri secretly craved that attention.

“See, Mom! He doesn’t mind. Keep recording, Loop.” Said Axel, grinning.

“Why are you recording us eat anyway?” Said Victor, thanking Hiroko as she placed a bowl of something amazing smelling before him. His Japanese had improved immensely, noted Yuuri. But it was still strange to hear Victor speak in his native language. His pronunciation was a little off, but two and a half years in Japan had definitely done wonders to his Japanese. Victor could almost sound fluent at times.

“We need more followers.” Said Loop, holding the phone steady. “And you two are a goldmine.”

“So this is what it feels like to be exploited by eight year olds.” Observed Yuuri, still amused.

“Stop using Victor and Yuuri to gain followers!” Said Yuuko, crossing her arms. Takeshi grinned.

“If anything, this is mostly your fault, Yuuko. They did learn this from you. Remember how you and Yuuri used to-“

“Okay, okay, everyone! Why don’t we start eating, heh!” Cried Yuuri, gesturing towards the food. Victor looked over at Yuuko, who was sending Takeshi a glare that was sharp enough to kill, and he chuckled.

The quick foot falls of someone running got louder and louder until Minako burst into the room.

“Yuuri!” She shouted, almost pouncing on him. “This better not be you trying to take off time from skating!” Yuuri shook his head, quickly swallowing his mouthful of food.

“No, Victor just needs to get some stuff from his old apartment.” He said, smiling. Yuuri looked over at him and nodded. He wasn’t ready to tell them the truth. Victor was sure they would understand.

“Besides, we can still skate when we’re there. We can visit my old skating rink. I’m sure Yurio would be thrilled to see us again.” Said Victor, eyes twinkling.

Minako sat at the table, and accepted a plate. “He’s still under Yakov, right?”

“I miss that boy. He was rather feisty though!” Said Hiroko, finally coming to sit at the table.

Yuuko brought her phone up. “I still text him every once and a while. Apparently Otabek and him are dating.”

Victor nearly choked on his food. “Otabek and Yurio? Wait, when did this happen?”

Yuuko nodded, scrolling. “About three months ago? Yeah, I thought you might want to talk to him about that. Oh, and girls,” She said, pointing directly at Loop. “If you post that then no phones for three months. Yuri made me promise not to tell a soul.”

“How old is Otabek now?” Asked Mari.

“Well, it’s April now, so… 20? And Yurio just turned 17.” Said Yuuko. “They’re what, two years and a half apart?”

“That’s not a big difference.” Said Yuuri, defensive. “Victor and I have a four year difference. It’s not like that changes anything.” Yuuko shrugged.

“I suppose so. Hiroko, this is delicious, seriously!” Hiroko glowed.

“That is the one thing I don’t mind bragging about!” She said, blushing. “When you spend your life cooking as I do, you either get lazy, or get good.” Victor could see where Yuuri had gotten his kind and caring nature from.

They finished their dinner, chatting and laughing. Mari went outside for a smoke break while everyone else tried to process the copious amount of food they had eaten.

“We should probably take the girls home.” Said Takeshi, waving. “Any longer and we might have to stay the night.”

“Have fun in Russia you two!” Said Yuuko, winking. “Come back safe, okay!”

“I’d never let anything bad happen to _my_ husband. He’s in good hands!” Said Victor cheerfully, delighting in the red that ran all along Yuuri’s ears. When they had settled back in their room, and had begun to pack their bags, Victor leaned in close. “Hmm?”

“What?” Said Yuuri, shying away from Victor’s breath tickling his neck.

“Why do you get embarrassed when I call you my husband?” Said Victor, pressing a kiss into his soft skin.

“Oh, is that a bad thing?” Asked Yuuri.

“No, your reactions are always incredible.” Whispered Victor, smirking slightly. “But don’t you like it? Me calling you my husband.”

Red inched up his neck. “No,” he said, breath hitched. Yuuri couldn’t look him in the eye, and was fixated on the floor. “You could say… I like it too much.” Yuuri then proceeded to bury his face into the jacket he was trying to fold. Only his rosy ears stuck out.

“Well, husband!” Said Victor, grinning wider than the moon as Yuuri only grew pinker. “If you don’t help me with this packing, we’re never going to get done!” He giggled as Yuuri dug his face into the jacket. “If I knew my husband had this kind of reaction to being called ‘husband’ then I would have done this a lot sooner.”

“Victor!” Said Yuuri, holding back a grin. He covered his mouth with a hand, but his eyes were full of laugh lines and light.

“Husband!” Cried Victor, landing on the bed beside him and pulling his hands away from his mouth. “Don’t you hide that grin from me.” He covered Yuuri’s neck with kisses, which left him breathless with laughter.

“No, Vitya, stop!” He cried. “Seriously, ah!” Victor pulled away, still grinning. Yuuri looked absolutely ravished, and he hadn’t even done anything to him yet. Yuuri looked back up at him, and stroked his cheek. Victor looked suggestively at him, and raised an eyebrow. Subtle. “No,” Yuuri said, in a mock stern voice, placing a finger over Victor’s soft lips. “No sex until we finish packing.” The fake seriousness left Yuuri in peals of laughter.

“Hey, Yuuri, Victor?” called Mari from the door to the room. “Keep it down, I can’t focus if you’re so loud.”

“Will do Mari!” said Victor, while Yuuri apologised profusely.

He slapped a hand over his mouth. “Do you think she heard me say the sex thing? Oh god, I’m never going to live that down.” Yuuri melted back into an anxiety puddle.

“I’m sure she didn’t.”

“But what if she did!” Groaned Yuuri.

“She didn’t, she had earphones in.” He said, kissing the top of Yuuri’s head. “Please, let us finish this packing as quickly as possible.”

Yuuri nodded.

Was he looking forward to the trip? Parts of it, maybe. He wanted to see where Victor had grown up. It was an important part of his life, something that he needed to know. Yuuri didn’t look forward to speaking in Russian. He was appalling, and this wasn’t him being self-doubting or uncertain. Sure, he got most of the words right, but the pronunciation was difficult. Even with Victor, he would sometimes need to repeat himself a couple times so that he could understand what he meant.

“It’ll be okay,” reassured Victor in the train. “They will understand what you are saying. You don’t need to worry.”

“How did you cope when you first came to Japan?” Asked Yuuri.

“I just smiled a lot. And I started learning as soon as I decided to coach you. But I’ve lived with your family for over two years, so it is a little unfair to compare us.” Victor laced his fingers between Yuuri’s, and squeezed gently. “Of course it’s going to be difficult, but you can do it. And if you mess up or forget something, I will be right beside you the whole way.”

Yuuri ran a finger over the golden ring. “Good.” He wanted to give that sick woman a piece of his mind.

They arrived at the airport to reporters shooting pictures like their cameras were machineguns, and questions were thrust out like knives. They politely waved, but kept a safe distance.

Victor was exhausted by the time they got in their seats, and he closed his eyes immediately. Yuuri kissed his cheek, and looked on sympathetically. He felt like there was something burning inside him, a spiteful anger that licked at the sides of him. Yuuri grit his teeth. He had no right to feel angrier than Victor. Victor had been abandoned. This had happened to him. He was fine. His family loved him.

Yuuri swept Victor’s hair out of his eyes, and lowered his head to his shoulder. That was about all he could do. Nobody would ever hurt Victor again.

 

*

 

“We should be arriving in Moscow at 7:30 am!” called the Captain over the intercom. Victor leaned up, chuckling at the tired look Yuuri gave him.

“Go to sleep.” He said, smiling. “We’ll be there soon.”

Yuuri nodded, and tried to close his eyes.

“I’ll wake you when we get there. We still have two hours to go.” Yuuri leaned against Victor, and breathed him in, calming him.

 

*

 

Victor Nikiforov was 29 years old, so it didn’t come as a surprise that he was retiring this year.

Last year had been absolutely mad. After a year off, his body had grown softer, weaker. He wasn’t as flexible, and even doing moves he had so easily done the year before made his muscles burn. Yuuri had joked about him finally realising his age, and Victor was resolute in proving him wrong. He pushed himself so hard at the Grand Prix that he pretty much only made it on the podium through painkillers and determination alone. He also had to train Yuuri, which was easier than the year before. Yuuri was determined to get that gold medal.

When they were finally on the podium together, Yuuri with the gold around his neck, Victor with his silver, and Yurio with bronze, he found that he wasn’t disappointed with the silver at all. He had almost broke down on the spot when he saw how happy Yuuri looked.

The wedding was held promptly thereafter, in Yuuri’s hometown by the beach. It was a warm fall day, and they both wore suits. Yuuri in white and Victor in navy. It was a very private affair (so the triplets had no access to their phones), only those closest were invited, but they released the photos a week later. Even Yakov, who Victor had never seen cry, shed a few tears during the ceremony. Yuri grumbled to start off with, but at the end had a big grin on his face.

“Finally,” He said, chugging a glass of champagne when Yakov wasn’t looking. “I was getting sick of you two dancing around each other. It was about time you did this.” Yuri looked up at Yuuri. “Seriously, I’m glad this happened. I’m happy for you.” Yuuri nearly recoiled in shock.

“Oh, I am so glad you said that, Yurio!” Said Victor, leaning forward. “We really did raise you well! So mature, isn’t he! I’m so proud.”

“You aren’t my parents, shithead!” Yelled Yuri, clenching the neck of the glass, stomping away.

Victor would have loved to carry on with another season. But he barely scraped 2nd with Yuri right behind him at a very close margin. And he had increasing problems with his spine and knee joints. He was in good health, but those two factors put him at huge risk if he ever got an injury, which was even more likely with his slowly diminishing flexibility.

He had had his share of medals. He was happy with what he had done. And most of all, he was proud of Yuuri, who he would continue to train until he decided to retire. Victor, for the first time in his life, was completely and utterly satisfied with what he had.

And for that he was grateful.

 

*

 

“It’s been really long since I was last here, but I called someone to clean it before I got here.” Chatted Victor, fiddling with the keys before opening the door.

“Victor, where is the bedroom?” Asked Yuuri drowsily. “I’m about to collapse.”

Victor led him to the bedroom, and tucked the sleepy skater underneath the blankets. He pulled the curtains closed, and kissed him on the head. “I’m going to get us something for lunch when you wake up. What would you like?”

“Something Russian.” He mumbled, pushing on Victor’s chest. “Go, I’m tired.”

“How do you say that in Russian?”

“Я устал мудак.” That made Victor laugh.

Victor went into the kitchen, running his fingers along the wide open spaces. He had called his mother earlier, and had asked for the address before hanging up. They would go in three days, so they had plenty of time to wonder around St Petersburg. There was a lot to do in the city. They could visit the ice rink tomorrow.

He lounged around for a bit, watching a bit of news. It was a strange relief to hear other people speaking his language. He didn’t mind English or Japanese, but Russian had always allowed him to express himself in ways that the other two languages didn’t allow. He flickered between channels, but nothing really interested him.

“Hey,” said Yuuri, rubbing his eyes.

“I thought you were going to get some sleep?” Asked Victor, turning to him.

“I can’t go to sleep. I’ve got too much floating around in my head to relax.” Victor moved over on the couch, and let Yuuri sit.

“Do you want to tell me something, Yuuri?” Asked Victor, turning down the volume of the tv. Yuuri shook his head.

“No, it’s dumb. I’m being dumb.”

“How do you know it’s dumb?” Said Victor, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri looked away. “Yuuri…” grumbled Victor, irritated. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’re feeling. I’m your coach and your husband. That gives me two times the obligation.”

“I just-“ Began Yuuri before stopping himself again. He turned back to face Victor, and there was a sense of unexpected fury. “I don’t think I can face your mother.”

What? That was surprising. “Why is that?” Asked Victor, gently.

“I don’t feel like I could hold myself back!” Cried Yuuri. “I’m just- she’s so- ugh.” He shook his head. “I just can’t imagine a person who would do that to their child. It’s crazy that she just left you alone, and then wants you back all of a sudden!” Yuuri grit his teeth. He felt that same angry boil, but now it had been left alone too long, and was overflowing. Right into his veins.

“Yuuri,”

“No Victor, I don’t want to give her a chance! She abandoned you, she left you. She hurt you, and she didn’t give a shit about it!” His eyes were shut tightly, but Victor could see his wet lashes sticking against each other. “I can’t be kind to someone like that. I’m afraid that when I meet her, I’ll just lash out.” His fingers clenched tight over his thighs, and angry, bitter tears began to fall from his eyes. “I don’t want to lash out. I’m not that sort of person!”

“Yuuri, that’s not dumb.” Said Victor, kissing the tears off his cheeks. “Don’t say it’s dumb. And of course I know you’re not that kind of person. You’re kind, and you’re intelligent, and so brave!”

“Why aren’t you angry?” Said Yuuri tearfully. Victor felt his heart clench.

“I’ve had fifteen years to get use to her not giving a shit about me.” Said Victor. “I’m still angry, but it is not as overwhelming as it was when I was younger. I’ve had time, but you haven’t. Mostly, I just get sad. But what you are feeling right now,” he said, placing a hand over Yuuri’s chest. “Is completely normal. You can feel however you want about her. You don’t even need to see her if you don’t want to.” He offered, but Yuuri shook his head.

“No,” he said, sniffing. “If you’re going, then I’m going. I want to protect you.” Victor hugged him, and listened to his heart beat rapidly pounding in his chest. _I’ll stay here as long as it takes for it to slow down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chill people, I'll update again soon! I just watched the last episode and man, has it been quite a ride. I love everyone who worked on Yuri!!! On Ice, and I am crossing my fingers for a sequel! The pair skating scene cured my depression, it was BRILLIANT!
> 
> As always, if you liked this, leave a message, spam me, whatever. Bad feedback, good feedback, it is all welcome. Your feedback is my motivation, so if you like this stuff and want to see me write more, then leave a message.
> 
> See you again soon!


	4. Familial approval is very important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek have a talk about their relationship. Cuteness ensues.
> 
> And for added fun:  
> Yurio's SP song: https: // www . youtube . com/watch?v=etDon1LH1vA  
> Otabek's SP song: https: // www . youtube . com/watch?v=xZzEQsEXLb8
> 
> Remove the spaces and play while reading for extra salt XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Otayuri. Partially angst
> 
> Can I just say that I love Yuri's grandfather? We don't see enough of him, but he seems like such a sweet soul I can't help but include him!

For all that Yuri loved about Otabek, there was still some things that he just couldn’t stand. It made him want to rip his hair out and throw his phone at a wall. He physically had to resist the urge to punch his fist through the rink wall. One: because he knew he was delicate (which he would never admit out loud or to himself), and two: it wasn’t really Otabek’s fault he was such an idiot.

Otabek had the cutest smile, and when Yuri was able to coax it out of him, a laugh that he would gladly die for. But getting him to smile at all was a task deemed almost super-human. Although Otabek didn’t say so, Yuri could see he was on edge around him. When asked, Otabek shrugged, and denied anything and everything.

Fuck, he was already getting mad just thinking about it! Yuri went into a sitting spin until he felt his head grow heavy and his muscles strain from lack of oxygen.

And it wasn’t like Yuri texted him that often. But it would usually take three or four hours before he got a reply. Which was complete bullshit, as they now both were training in St Petersburg, although under a different coach. Figure skating, and ice skating in general wasn’t very popular in Kazakhstan. His rink wasn’t receiving the funding it needed badly, and the whole thing was in bad shape. There was simply far more opportunity in Russia. Otabek couldn’t speak much English, but was fluent in Russian. The coaches were a lot better, and the ice rinks were fit for Olympians. It just made sense.

And he never, and Yuri meant never, initiated anything. Text. Handholding. Kissing. Yuri wanted to grab his stupid face and scream the words straight into his ears.

Mila looked at him strangely as he passed. “Yuri, watch out,” She said, pointing at his face. “You might give someone a heart attack if you go around looking like that.” He glared at her.

Bitch.

He wasn’t needy. Yuri didn’t need a confession of love, or constant attention, or even smiles. He just wanted to understand what Otabek was thinking. There was something running through his mind, a constant current. But Otabek didn’t say a word, didn’t say a single complaint. He tried his best to hold up that stoic, chivalrous image, but Yuri was fucking sick of it all.

“Idiot.” He said under his breath. _Just fucking talk to me! If you can’t even tell your boyfriend, then…_

His train of thought was disrupted by a loud commotion near the front of the building. He turned. Of course, who else would it be? Victor and the other Yuuri were here.

Victor was being greeted by everyone. It had been three years since they had last seen him. A few of the women were even shedding tears. Pathetic, thought Yuri.

“Hey, Yuri!” Yelled Victor, finally having spotted him. “Yuri!” He shouted again, waving. He groaned, and glided towards them. Victor’s eyes went wide as he took him in. “Yuri… did you get taller? Look, Yuuri, he’s taller than you!”

“Seriously?” Said Yuri as Victor tackled him with a hug. “Stop trying to kill me!” He struggled, as Victor squeezed him tightly. Yuuri smiled, and hugged him as well, touching his hair.

“Your hair is so long now!” Yuuri said, blushing slightly. “It’s almost as long as Victor’s was.” Katsudon was speaking in Russian now?

“I’m so glad that you’re following my example, Yuri!” Said Victor. “I’m such a good role model for you.”

“I look nothing like you!” He protested. He stifled the grin that was threatening to mess up his face. Why on earth was he glad to see these love-sick idiots again?

“Oh, you wound me Yuri!” Cried Victor dramatically. He placed a hand over his heart, and another against his shoulder. Did he turn more into a drama-queen when speaking in Russian? “I will never recover from the crippling injury you’ve given me. Yuuri, hold me, I can’t stand this much longer!” Before Yuuri and Victor could start touching each other again, Yakov placed a hand on Victor’s shoulder.

“Vitya,” he said, holding out his arms stiffly. Victor leaned into the embrace, kissing the old man on the cheek. “I hope you have been well?”

“Yakov.” He said, a surprised, but pleased expression. His face became soft, the corners of his mouth turning up gently. It was uncanny, thought Yuri. The expression seemed so familiar, a copy-and-paste from his grandfather’s own face looking on him. Their smiles were identical. “I’m really happy to see you.” The shift in mood was apparent.

“We can talk later.” Nodded his coach. The gruff tone had disappeared in an instant. “Yuri, take a break. It’s lunch time. You can’t afford to pull a muscle right now.” Yuri nodded, pulling off his skates.

“Hey, Yakov, is it okay if Yuuri practises here?” Asked Victor, looking at Yuuri with that soft gooey look that made Yuri want to vomit.

“Sure, just don’t annoy the other skaters.” Said Yakov, walking away. Every now and then he would give Victor a look, but Victor was occupied with something else. Or, more accurately, someone else.

The head of every skater turned as Yuuri went out onto the ice. As the only Asian (or to be completely honest, the only non-Russian), the attention was instantly drawn on him. They all recognised him, even without the costumes and slicked back hair. Everyone wanted to see the Grand Prix final gold medallist dance on the ice.

Yuri sat down on a bench, and pulled off his skate, rubbing his feet. He watched Katsuki from time to time, looking up at him. He was popping quads out like they were nothing, his free leg without a tremble as he lifted his leg up. Yuuri had turned into an uncontrollable demon under Victor’s wing.

 _Oh shit_ , he thought, looking over at the encroaching grey haired man walking towards him. _Speak of the devil, and he shall appear._

“Hello Yuri.” He said, pulling out something from his large brown coat. “I bought lunch from the bakery. You know the one.” He said, placing the bag beside him. “You enjoy Pelmeni, right?”

He fucking loves Pelmeni. Grandfather likes to make thousands in autumn, and freeze them for nights he got home late in the winter.

“It’s okay. You didn’t need to buy me lunch, so don’t expect me to pay you back.” He grumbles, which makes Victor chuckle.

“How has your skating been?”

“Why should I tell you? You’re not my coach.”

“I’m just a little concerned.” Said Victor. Concerned?

“Bullshit.”

“Yuuri beat you by a considerable amount last season.” Victor seemed to be pondering something for a moment before he spoke. “Is this anything to do with someone else?”

What. What?

“Someone else?” Spat Yuri. “The reason I got bronze last season wasn’t because you or Yuuri were better than me. I was out of balance last time.” He said, referring to his sudden growth spurt. “But this year,” he said, glaring intimidatingly. “You better tell Katsudon to watch his ass.”

Victor chuckled.

“So that had nothing to do with Otabek?”

It took half a second to hit him completely. Victor looked like he was about to laugh, that shit-eating grin plastered right over his face.

“How the fuck-“ He said, boarding on rage. “Who told you?”

“I have my sources,” Smirked Victor mischievously.

Whoever had spilled the beans to Victor was going to be nailed to a cross.

“Ugh, fine.” He said, coming clean. “Me and Otabek are dating. But if you tell anyone else I’ll kill you.” He made a cutting motion right over the skin of Victor’s neck, scowling.

Victor nodded solemnly. “You have my word.” _Great_ , thought Yuri. _That’s worth fuck all._

“Now give me the details!” Cried Victor, leaning far too close for comfort.

“Ugh, no.” He said, shoving Pelmeni into his mouth.

“No trouble then? Because you can talk to me about that sort of stuff. I would know.”

“No, that’s just weird.” Yuri said. “I mean, you’re like, 29.”

“I meant, I’m married to a man.” Said Victor back, just as bluntly. “So if you have any questions or problems, you can just call. Or text. I’m always available for help.”

Questions? Oh god, he didn’t mean about… ugh, now his face was red. This was just awful.

“I get it, I get it.” He said, trying to change the subject.

“I’m just making sure!” Victor said cheerfully, finishing his bowl of Pelmeni, and chucking it in the bin. “I’m going to go check on something with Yakov.”

“Wait-“ Said Yuri, speaking before he could stop himself. Crap. Shit. Damn it, fuck. He didn’t want to admit it, but this asshole could potentially help him. He did convince the most oblivious, self-doubting man in the world, who never would have ever had the balls to make a move (unless he was hideously drunk) to marry him. So he could actually help him.

“Hmmm?” Returned the heart-shaped smile.

“I… do actually have something I am worried about.” He said, squeezing his eyes shut. “But you can’t tell anyone. Not even Katsudon. I’ll find out if you do!”

“There is no need to threaten me!”

Yuri grit his teeth, fingers tight around the plastic fork. “I think,” he said, looking at the floor. He wouldn’t be able to say it if Victor could see the pathetic expression on his face. “I think Otabek is hiding something from me. He’s avoiding something, and I can tell.”

Victor nodded. “Is that all?”

“Huh?!” Cried Yuri. “Are you seriously trying to be condescending right now?” Victor laughed.

“No, no. You’re misunderstanding me!” He said. “What I mean to say is: are there any other problems? Something else? Because what I’ve found is that if someone doesn’t want to tell you something, then there is some other problem usually linked to it.”

“Well,” Yuri said, thinking for a moment. “He never initiates anything. He always waits for me to… you know… do anything. He can’t even hold my hand without asking for permission. He doesn’t start anything! And it pisses me off!” He shoveled the last few bits of Pelmeni, chewing and shutting himself up before he could say anything else to embarrass himself.

“The way I see it,” He said, finger on his lip. “You should probably just talk to him.”

“That’s your advice? Get real!” Yuri scoffed.

“Otabek must be nervous. Ask him why he’s acting that way.”

“Just that? I’m so done with you.” He sighed.

“Do I have to spell it out Yuri?” He sounded exasperated. What was with that tone? “It seems very clear to me. He is nervous. This is linked to him not wanting to tell you something. That something is making him nervous! How blind are you?” Victor wasn’t grinning anymore.

Yuri felt his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t know why I even told you. Stop acting weird, it’s not like you’re even involved in it anyway. Why are you so serious all of a sudden?”

“Just,” He said, brushing his hair out of his face. His eyes were intense, focused. “You should treasure the relationships you have with people. People who love you, and people who care for you. Those people are important. Don’t screw something up because you decide to be stupid.” His breath was shaky.

Yuri felt an odd sensation in his stomach. He shouldn’t give a shit, but…

But Victor didn’t look too good either.

In a sweep, he stood back up. In the space of a couple seconds, he had that mask back on his face, fixed grin in place. “Talk it out.” He said, taking Yuri’s empty bowl and fork. “That’s the best you can do. It’s up to him whether or not he tells you. Woah,” Sighed Victor. “Now I seriously need to go talk to Yakov. I’m not ready for a lecture quite yet!”

Yuri stood, shell-shocked. There was something wrong with Victor, no doubt about it. In all the years they had trained under Yakov together, he had never acted like that. It was unnerving.

He shouldn’t pry. Maybe Nikiforov was right. He would talk to Otabek. Pulling out his phone, he sent him a quick text.

 

**Yuri: Busy tonight? I’m thinking we could eat at that market near the bridge**

**Otabek <3: That sounds great. Is 7:00?**

**Yuri: Sure. Can we eat in your apartment though? It’s cold af rn. It’s april, Idfk**

**Otabek <3: It’s going to rain. Do you want to stay over?**

**Yuri: Hell yeah**

**Otabek: Okay. I’ll meet you at the bridge at 7:00.**

He laced his skates back up, and hoped back on the ice.

 

*

 

“That Ramen smells unbelievable.” Said Yuri, almost inhaling the scent.

“I’ll give you some of mine when we get home.” Said Otabek. Yuri looked down at the dinner he had bought. Some beef stroganoff that while delicious, didn’t seem like the right choice afterall. Otabek would insist on seeing every stall until he made his choice. Which is why Yuri always ended up eating most of Otabek’s food.

It started to rain. Otabek pulled out a raincoat. “I only have one, so can you hold our food while I drive?” He said, the rain coming down hard. They had taken shelter underneath the bridge. The water was coming down in rivulets, pouring down the sides and making the sides of his jeans wet. Yuri nodded, and they began running to get to the parking lot.

Otabek was completely soaked by the time they reached his apartment. Yuri loved it here. Not because it was tidy and clean, but because it always smelled faintly like Beka.

“Are you dry?” Asked Otabek. Yuri blushed. God damn, this man was going to make him lose his mind.

“Yeah, and the food isn’t waterlogged.”

“Great, just place it down on the counter. I’ll take a quick shower.” Otabek’s cheeks were red with cold.

He came back after a while, pulling on a shirt. It gave Yuri a glimpse of dark tanned skin and abs. It never failed to send a tremor through him. And it’s not like they had done anything either. Yuri dreamed of running his fingernails down those muscles so hard it left marks.

Yuri shook the thoughts from his head. There wasn’t really any point in thinking that sort of thing just yet. Because Otabek and his godlike body wouldn’t do anything until he was 18, which was 11 months away. Yuri found it completely ridiculous. The age of consent of both their countries was 16, but Otabek wanted to wait it out. He wanted to make it special. Yuri wanted to throw something at him the moment he had said that.

Not that he was doing anything at the moment anyway. _Right_ , he thought. _I need to talk_.

“Beka?” He asked, while Otabek was reheating his food.

“Yeah?” That nickname always made him blush a little.

“Can we talk?”

….

“Is it serious?” Asked Otabek, eyebrow slightly raised.

“I don’t know.”

“Can you rate it on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“It’s probably a 3? Or a 2.5?”

That allowed Otabek to relax a little. “What is it?”

 _Just fucking speak!_ He ordered himself. _What the fuck is my problem?_

“Don’t be tense,” said Otabek gently.

“Beka, is there something you need to tell me?” Said Yuri. Those eyes struck him cold. _Eyes like a soldier_. “You’ve seemed distant lately. Like you’re afraid to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I’ve been that obvious?” He said, frowning.

“Otabek, you are really obvious.”

Otabek let out a heavy sigh. “I thought I was being overbearing.”

“You are not overbearing.”

“I didn’t want to rush things,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind Yuri’s ear. “I don’t want to scare you away.” This romantic bullshit made him want to stop this whole thing and make out on the couch.”

Yuri shook his head. “Why do you think I’m your boyfriend?”

Otabek shrugged.

“Don’t be a dumbass!” Cried Yuri. “I want you to kiss me. I want to hold your hand. It’s okay to do those things, because I care about you, and I want have you close by!”

Otabek looked a little shocked at the prospect.

“I – you want me to do more of that kind of thing?” Otabek asked. Yuri nodded intensely. Was he finally getting it through his thick scull?

“Yes. You have my authorization. All the time. Just go for it.” Yuri said, shaking his head trying to stop the massive smirk on his face. “Otabek Altin has permission to kiss me 24/7. Except in front of my grandfather.”

Otabek frowned again.

“What?”

“Your Grandfather. He doesn’t know about us.”

“So what?”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing this without him knowing.”

“Damn it, Beka!” He groaned, pulling

“I want his approval.” Said Otabek softly, stroking his cheek ever so softly with his thumb.

“Is that what you were so hung up about?” Said Yuri, exhausted with this back and forth.

“Yes.” There was a sudden spark in Yuri’s eyes.

“Fuck it,” said Yuri, running up to his bag and getting out his phone. “I’m calling him right now.”

“Wait, shouldn’t we do this in person?” Said Otabek.

“You want to kiss me?” Otabek nodded. “Then we are getting his approval right now. You need to be willing to make some fucking compromises.” If that meant calling his grandpa and potentially getting yelled at for interrupting his weekly card game with his friends from work.

He dialled the number and placed his phone at his ear. It rang for a while before…

“Yurochka? It’s late!” His grandfather knew Otabek. This would be fine!

“I’m at Otabek’s apartment. Is it okay if I stay for the night?” He asked, biting his lip.

“Yes, that is fine. It’s too cold to walk back.” Otabek had slept over at Yuri’s house too. Otabek and Grandpa liked to play chess together.

“Good, because there is something else I need to tell you.” Yuri said, turning to Otabek. “I’m dating him.”

“What? Yurochka, I couldn’t hear you.” Said his grandfather. FUCK.

“I’m dating Otabek!” He said, enunciating each word as clearly as he could.

“Really?” Said his grandfather. “Well, he’s far better than that punk back when you were 14. She was a real piece of work.”

“дедушка, please don’t talk about that!” He said, almost slamming the phone into his face. “You’re on speaker.”

“What?”

“Otabek can hear you!”

“Oh,” Said his grandfather. “I’m not surprised anyway. I thought you were a closer than normal.”

“Is that seriously all you’re going to say?” Cried Yuri.

“Please take care of my grandson, Otabek. If he trusts you, then so do I.”

Otabek lit up like a lamp. “I will sir. I’ll keep him safe.” He gave the thumbs up sign to Yuri.

“And don’t you do anything while you are at his apartment.” Warned his grandfather. “You still live under my roof, and under my rules.”

_You’ve got to be fucking kidding me._

“Yes sir, nothing until he is 18.” Agreed Otabek. “We already have made that agreement. Your approval means a lot to me, sir. I will not let you down.”

 _Fuck, this is torture!_ He thought. Yuri fought the urge to scream. _I swear I’m going to stab out my ear drums._

“дедушка, please- just- gahh!”

“Don’t be embarrassed Yurochka.” Chided his grandfather. “I think you’ve picked a good one.”

Otabek was on the verge of a full-blown grin. “Thank you sir!”

“Call me Николай, please.”

“I hate you both,” murmured Yuri into Otabek’s t-shirt.

“I need to get back to the game. Get to bed early, you have practise early tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, дедушка.” Said Yuri, finally dead inside.

“Goodnight, Yuri.” He said. Yuri hung up, collapsing against Otabek. Otabek stared down at Yuri, running his fingers through his soft, blond hair.

“Are you happy now?” Asked Yuri. Otabek smiled, and leaned towards him, lacing his fingers in-between Yuri’s own. The kiss was soft and light, and there was absolutely no rushing. A hand stroked his neck, sending pleasant shudders through him.

Otabek laughed.

“It should be illegal to be this sexy.” Sighed Yuri, running his fingers over Otabek’s jawline. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive 11 months.”

“We’ll get there.”

 

*

 

They stood outside the house. The morning air felt crisp against the growing anxiety in Victor’s chest.

“This is the house?” Asked Yuuri, rubbing his cold hands together. “It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.”

It was practically a mansion. A large hedge surrounded the whole property, perfectly trimmed. Stained glass windows and burgundy bricks as dark as wine.

“Are you still sure about this?” Asked Yuuri.

“Are you?” Asked Victor. “The only honest way for me to find out is to talk to her.”

He raised a hand to the doorbell, rang it, and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did go 500 words over my 3000, but I really like how this chapter turned out. Get ready for next chapter, when Yuuri and Victor confront the worst mother in the universe!
> 
> You guys know the drill by now! XD


	5. Culmination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri visit Alyona's house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urg, I'm not very happy with this chapter, but it's out, so... yeah. I'll fix the small mistakes in the morning (it's 11:10). I did write this while babysitting a bunch of toddlers, so that may have affected my writing ever so slightly.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Put on some depressing music, grab a cup of whatever you like to drink, and enjoy!

They stood outside the door, waiting for it to finally open.

Victor stood at the doorstep, holding his breath. His fingers felt numb in his gloves. He rubbed them against his thumb to bring back some sort of feeling.

“Take a deep breath.” Said Yuuri, who had been right behind him. He had said on the way here that he would go in once Victor had, but was now beside him. “Do you need me with you?”

Victor shrugged, rubbing his fingers together. “I’ll be fine. I’m just nervous.” He let out a wobbly breath, staring at the door handle, willing it to turn. It felt like everything was slow, Yuuri’s soft breath coming over his shoulder like cigarette smoke, the beating of his heart in his ears. “What is taking her so long?” He said.

“Victor, you look pale.” Whispered Yuuri, eyes wide. “Victor, are you okay? You don’t have to do this.”

“Please, Yuuri.” He said, gritting his teeth. Victor felt a burning in his chest, and it thrashed against his lungs. “Please stop asking me if I’m okay.” Yuuri’s hand clenched slightly on his own. “Please, just stop asking me if I want to back out. It’s not helping me in the slightest.” The words came out, coated with bitterness and delicately concealed cynicism. Yuuri looked taken aback but nodded.

“Okay.” He was aware it wasn’t aimed at him.

“Thank you, Yuuri.” He said, and the hand slipped out.

“I’ll come in soon. I’ll take a walk around the block.” Said Yuuri, looking down. “I know you need to talk to her on your own first.” His footsteps crunched down the pathway. “Call me if you need me. I just… feel bad about leaving you alone with her.”

“Don’t you dare feel guilty.” Said Victor, glowering. Why did Yuuri still doubt himself? Yuuri had done so much for him already. Victor needed this. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Said Yuuri, giving him one more earnest smile.

“Sirs, I am so sorry!” The door was pulled open, a flustered woman panting. Her face was pink. She struggled to keep eye contact, constantly looking away to the floor or to her side. “Ms Nikiforov was in the bath, and I didn’t see you at the door until just now.”

Victor shook his head. “She knew I was coming.” He didn’t want to be rude, this woman seemed embarrassed enough.

“Yes, well.” She said, tucking her orange hair behind her ear. “She must have not thought you were going to be here this early! Oh, come in!” She said, gesturing. “Is Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki here? Ms Nikiforov was wondering whether she would see him.”

Victor nodded. “He will be here.”

The house was even magnificent from the inside. A large stairway right in the centre, white rugs stretching out over hard wood floorboards. The curtains had been drawn open, revealing splendid windows of great size. The sun streamed in through the painted glass, carving beautiful colours onto the white fabric. A gold chandelier hung in the air, its crystal tumblers glinting in the light.

“Isn’t it wonderful!” said the woman. “Sure, it takes a long time to clean, but isn’t it all worth it when you look back at all of this.”

“It sure is grand.” He said. Victor had always liked luxury, but a house this big would make him feel empty and small.

The maid directed him towards the living room. Cream couches on white carpet. Burgundy fireplace. The bricks were as red as blood. “I am so sorry it took me that long to let you in! I’m sure Ms Nikiforov will be down soon. Would you like anything to eat or drink?” She offered.

Victor smiled at her. She seemed so nervous around him. “No, I’m fine.” Her face became even more flushed, but she nodded, and left.

He was in her house, he though, his heart jumping. It was a huge step up from their apartment back when he was 13. How had she achieved this level of wealth? What would he even say to her? The familiar sensation of anxiety twisted painfully inside him.

“Viktor?” Said a soft feminine voice. He looked up.

It felt like someone had kicked him in the chest, leaving him winded. His lungs seized up, blood pooling in his brain blocking all train of thought.

“Мама.” He said hoarsely.

Black hair in a tight bun. Tight drawn in lips. White skin. He could only focus on one thing at a time, but she was for sure his mother. Her expression was one he couldn’t forget, a fusion of disappointment and confusion branding her like a tattoo across her face. Мама had gained wrinkles, glaring lines by her eyes and forehead. Her age was showing.

“Viktor.” She repeated, drawing in air. “Viktor…I…” She looked at him, closely. “I don’t know how…”

“Мама, just…” He said, pointing at the couch.

“I’ll sit down.” She agreed. “Майя, bring me some tea. And bring some for Viktor as well.” He didn’t have the mental capacity to protest right now. It didn’t even seem real, even as she was right here in front of him. Майя brought over a tray, and scuffed out of the room in a hurry. Мама took a sip, and placed it down.

“Мама,” He felt a sudden recoil in his stomach. The words tasted dirty in his mouth, like profanity. How could he even talk to this woman?

“Viktor, I understand that this is very difficult.” She said, her throat tight. “And I have been holding a lot in as well.”

“You?” He spat. “You left me, not the other way around.”

“I was wrong to do that to you.”

“Oh, and you finally figured that out!” He said, getting louder. His anger grew inside him, a monster in his chest that threatened to burst out. “You figured out that it’s wrong to abandon your child? Well done Мама! Real good job.”

“Let me speak.” She hissed.

“You’re a horrible person.”

“Yes, I am a horrible person.” She said, gritting her teeth. “But I’m never going to help anyone if I am not allowed to explain myself.”

The fire burned his insides. “You can’t help anyone now.” He said, a cruel watery smile on his face. “You fucked up years ago. You can’t erase that with an apology.”

“I’m not trying to erase anything!” She shouted. “All I want to do is talk.”

The monster beat his chest, screaming for him to leave, to just get out. To burn this place down with all his memories and tears. He wanted the past to crackle and burst.

“Talk then. Tell me why you left me. Give me a real good reason not to walk out right now!”

Мама sipped her tea, looking across at him. She thought for a moment. Her fingers were digging into the couch.

“Your father.” She began, her eyes becoming cloudy. “He was married when I had you. I never told him. Not even when he was about to die. He never found out about his greatest son.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I didn’t tell him because he had too much on his plate already. His wife was pregnant. He was getting married. The whole thing had been just a mistake. He was my best friend.”

“I don’t care about father.” It was true. He had never even met the guy. One parent that left him was already too many to care about.

“Be patient!” She scowled. “I’m getting there. I raised you on my own because I didn’t want him to suffer for one mistake. He didn’t deserve that. I kept you, and I had promised that I wouldn’t ever tell him. It would ruin his whole life if he knew that you had been his real first child.” She shook her head. “But it became harder and harder to hide you. You look just like him. It wouldn’t have worked. So I moved to St Petersburg, and didn’t see him until he was on his death bed.”

“You never told me he was dead.” Said Victor.

“I didn’t think I needed to. He made no impact on your life. He didn’t know you existed.”

It was almost laughable. His own biological father never even knew who he was. Half of his genes were from someone who wasn’t even aware of him.

“I raised you on my own. When I saw you… kissing that boy, I panicked. I thought that I had messed up, not having given you a male role model. I thought you were becoming this way because you only had a mother to guide you. There was never someone masculine to show you what being a man was.”

“So you left me with Yakov.” He said.

“Yes. My ex aunt-in-law’s second husband. He was everything I thought a young boy should look up to. Strong, masculine. Appropriate attractions.” She muttered.

Something melted in his lungs.

“I thought you needed a father figure. So I left you there.”

“And you never came back,” he said, his voice cracking. “Just because of that?”

She nodded.

It broke. Whatever had been holding it all in, the wall he built with medals and fame at 15 to keep his emotions in check, it all broke in all at once. Crashing down, it screamed against his flesh, ripping in. The floodgates had been opened, and the water began to pour out too fast for him to handle. It was filling up his lungs. Victor was drowning.

Tears dripped down his elbows as he shook, silent as he held it all in. Loud sobs saturated the air, and he gasped as if he couldn’t breathe.

“Viktor, I am so sorry!” She cried, but it only made him cry harder. He couldn’t even speak now.

The tears stung his cheeks, burning his skin. His body was shuddering hard.

A hand touched his knee, and he shoved it off like it was infected. “DON’T!” He screamed, rubbing his eyes. His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest.

“I’m an awful mother.” Said the woman. She began to cry as well, breathing deeply as tears tracked wet lines over her sharp cheekbones.

He was barely holding himself together. His sleeves were soaked with his own tears. He lost track of time, just bawling into his arms. It was like the world disappeared for a moment, leaving him, and him alone to feel every second of her loss. Victor lost the ability to even think as he cried and cried.

Slowly, the world returned to him. His head began to clear, and the tears grew less as time went on. It was like he had drifted off to sleep, but was still aware of everything around him. He felt lighter, and a lot dizzier. The light made him blink as he looked up from his wet cuffs.

Мама was still crying, dabbing her eyes with a cloth.

“I shouldn’t have left you, believe me, I regret this more than anything I’ve ever done. And I’ve done a lot of fucked up things in my life.” She said, shaking her head. “I’m awful, aren’t I?”

“I think you’re a horrible person.” Said Victor, another sob wracking through him.

“That would be a correct assessment.” She said, nervously laughing as she dabbed her eyes. Victor looked at her, really looked. She was simply pathetic, crying silently into her handkerchief. He almost felt sorry for her right now.

He went for a cup of tea. The pot was cold as ice against his fingers. How long had he been crying? He checked the time on his phone. It had been a whole hour. Where was Yuuri?

Victor waited until Мама stopped crying. He would feel a tear sliding down his cheeks occasionally, but he felt better, even though his chest still burned.

“So why did you want to meet me again?” Sniffed Victor, rubbing his eyes. “You didn’t even talk to me in fifteen years. It would have been easier just to never talk to me again.”

“Vitya, I’m almost sixty.” She said sighing. “And I have never been in good health. I didn’t want to end up like your father. Never seeing you again would have killed me even faster.” She sniffed. “I know I’ve been a horrible person. Leaving you like that, I could only imagine what you have been through on your own. But I needed to see you again, even if it was just once more.”

“You screwed up.” Said Victor.

“I did,”

“And you don’t deserve my forgiveness for anything you did to me. Nothing will make up for those years I was alone.” Said Victor forcefully.

“I don’t blame you if you don’t want me in your life.”

“I don’t.” Said Victor.

“That’s fine with me. But if you do want me back, then I will be here.”

Victor nodded. He understood. It was all his decision.

“Do you still want to meet my husband?” He asked, looking for a sign of revulsion. She nodded, sipping her tea.

“I would love to meet him, if that is acceptable.”

Yuuri was waiting in the kitchen. The maid had called him in, and they both sat on bar stools, chatting quietly. Victor went to him. He wanted to talk to Yuuri first, before he did anything else.

“Victor!” He said, looking very concerned. “Are you going to be alright? Your cheeks are so red, I heard you crying.”

Victor nodded. “I’m going to be fine. Do you want to meet her?” Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“If that’s okay…”

“She wants to meet you as well, if that is any indication.”

Yuuri nodded. Yuuri laced his fingers between his own. Мама looked at them as they entered. They sat back down awkwardly on the couch. Yuuri stared at her.

She stared back. “You’re Yuuri?” She asked, her voice surprisingly softer than normal.

“I am.” He said. His fingers pulled against Victor’s.

“You look different than you do when you’re skating.” She said.

“Obviously.” He stated.

“You are very good. I’ve watched most of your competitions. You are incredibly talented. I’m surprised that you only got your first gold medal last year.”

Yuuri nodded. Taking about skating always got him talking. “I tried my best, but it was Viktor that guided me.” His Russian was a little slow, but correct.

“I honestly expected you to be more feminine!” She laughed, shaking her head.

Shit, Yuuri was mad now.

Yuuri’s fingers drew tight on his sleeves. She only noticed a split second before Yuuri slapped her across the face. Her handkerchief came up to soothe the burn.

“You’re a real bitch, aren’t you!” He snarled. “Acting like this is some sort of normal thing that is happening?” He shook his head. “This isn’t normal!”

“Yuuri.” Said Victor, looking between them.

“Leaving your son? You fucking despicable whore!” He screamed. “You hurt him, and you don’t even give a fuck what happens. Just because, what, he’s gay?”

“I’m-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Angry tears dripped onto the carpet. “Don’t even defend yourself. You don’t deserve your son. You don’t deserve a single thing from anyone!” Victor rubbed his back, slow circles. He needed to get this out.

“I want to fix this.” She insisted, glaring.

“It doesn’t look like that to me.” Said Yuuri, wiping his eyes. “You can’t fix this.” He looked back up at Victor. “But, no matter what happens, I’ll stick by with what Victor wants. If he wants to leave, we leave. But if you hurt him in any way ever again, even just a comment, even a breath over line, I will make your life a living nightmare.” He said, quaking under the bulk of his own words. Yuuri’s eyes could cut diamonds.

Мама nodded. She seemed to get the message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I cry while writing this? Yes. The toddlers were very confused XD
> 
> I hope this was okay? Critical evaluations give me life!
> 
> See you in a couple days, you awesome bunch of people reading this!


	6. It's always Cancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor talks about his problems and gets some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write a happy fluff chapter, but then this just happened.
> 
> Angst - Not even once.
> 
> The chapters are coming out a little slower than normal, but rest assured people, this story is going to continue. There will be more than 10 chapters, as there is more to the story I want to add that will just not fit into 30,000. It's almost New Years, and my family gets a little antsy around the holidays.
> 
> Tell me in the comments if you have any requests for this story as well. I am up for a bit of a challenge.
> 
> So sit back, grab some food of your choosing, and enjoy!

The goodbye was the most awkward thing out of everything else he had done. Yuuri held onto Victor’s hand like a lifeline, glaring at the woman. Alyona. That was her name. She didn’t seem to Yuuri to be apologetic at all. She didn’t look ashamed. She glared back at him in full force. Alyona should have been grateful that Victor was even there, and even more grateful that he had come with an open mind. All Yuuri wanted to do was leave as quickly as possible. Imagining how she could have left her only son behind made him queasy.

He stared at his right hand. That slap had felt _good._ Yuuri felt even worse, but not for her specifically. Yuuri hated hurting people, even going so far not to tell people when they were hurting him. He would rather be hurt than see others hurting. But her… that shouldn’t have felt as satisfying, even if she deserved it.

“I’m glad you met with me.” Said Alyona. She spoke quickly, but the words were syrupy, dripping with enough sweetness to make him gag.

“I…” Said Victor, looking at her. He didn’t know what to say, realised Yuuri with a flinch.

Victor Nikiforov was known for his godlike abilities first, and his charm second. Yuuri found his ability to speak to almost anyone without struggle amazing, and it had been one of the driving factors in his crush at the time. He could slip on an easy smile and let the rest of the world wait as he spoke. It didn’t matter what he talked about. Victor could talk about knitting and everyone in the vicinity would melt away.

Yet, at this moment, he seemed almost tongue-tied.

“I…” his hand squeezed Yuuri’s. “I’m going back to Japan tomorrow morning.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“But I don’t know how exactly things are going to work out.” He was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I have zero obligations towards you. I owe you nothing.” He said. Alyona nodded. “But I’ll see what happens. Don’t expect much.”

“I know.”

Victor nodded.

“I’m grateful that you came, even if I won’t see you again.” She said. “I put you through a lot.” She sighed deeply, leaning against the door frame. “But I’m proud of you. You’ve done well with your life. And you deserve to be happy.”

Victor looked at him, his expression grim. He wasn’t frowning. But the look in his eyes, it just felt sad.

“Goodbye, Мама.” He said, turning.

“Goodbye Vitya.” She said. The door was closed quickly.

They proceeded down the path. They climbed back into Victor’s car, and just drove. Victor was silent the whole way back. His cheeks were still red from when he had cried. His sleeve left a wet mark on the steering wheel. He stared, straight out at the road, his blue eyes made murky from the ashen grey sky. Yuuri stuck his fingers right up to the air conditioner. The cold was trickling into his bones.

Victor had cried for more than an hour. How much pain would he have had to been in? Yuuri couldn’t even imagine. What if his mother had left him, and never come back. His mother’s warm smile, and soft laugh came to mind. She couldn’t do that to him. But that woman had. Yuuri sighed, leaning forward to turn on the radio, flipping through a bunch of different stations until he found one that sounded decent. He couldn’t understand the words that well when they were sung, but he picked up a few here and there.

The car grumbled underneath them. Yakov had let them borrow his car. It was rather old, a bit rusted with old leather and scratched glass.

“Yakov doesn’t like spending money,” Explained Victor, hopping in. “He hasn’t bought a new jacket in ten years! He’s still wearing the one he did when I was a teenager.”

“I don’t want to be rude, Victor.” He said, biting back a grin. “But this is a wreck. Look, the front light doesn’t even work.” Yuuri poked the wheel apprehensively. “He’s a world famous coach, he has enough money to buy at least a semi-functional vehicle.”

Victor laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m great at driving.”

“The fact that you even bring that up worries me.” Sighed Yuuri, climbing into the car. It smelt like cigarettes and leather, with a hint of Victor’s cologne.

“Do not worry, my _solnyshko_.” He said winking, backing out of the driveway. “I’ll get up there in one piece!” He then pressed on the breaks hard enough to slam Yuuri into the dashboard.

That joyful attitude was lacking now. Victor didn’t look angry either. Yuuri flicked his finger against the worn cushions. The car bumbled along, jumping at any unevenness on the road.

“Are you okay, Yuuri?” Said Victor, finally speaking up after nearly half an hour. Yuuri frowned.

“I should be asking you that.” Said Yuuri. “She’s your mom.”

“I can be worried about you.” He said, a small smile hovering over his lips.

“But this happened to you.” Said Yuuri, feeling that same recoil as her face appeared in his mind. “She left you behind. And I’m not going to sit here feeling bad, because it didn’t happen to me, and that would be taking away from you.” Yuuri sighed. “I’m phrasing it wrong. I’m trying to say that I don’t want you to care about me. Or… just…” He trailed off, glaring at the dashboard.

“Yuuri.” Said Victor, stretching out his name in that way to signal that he was getting a little tired of whatever he was doing. “Don’t start talking like that again.”

“When… you ask me if I’m okay, or that my feelings about her are valid, or that I can feel however I want, I feel guilty. Like I’m taking advantage of your feelings.” He said.

Victor sighed. “You know I don’t feel that way. You are not ‘taking advantage of my feelings’.”

“I still feel guilty.”

“Is there anything I can do to fix that then?” suggested Victor.

“See!” Said Yuuri. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Yuuri shook his head, and turned off the radio. The song was beginning to annoy him. It was some pop singer, a girl who kept trying to increase her pitch to an ear-wounding level. “You never focus on yourself Victor. You worry about me, when you should be taking care of yourself! _I_ feel guilty. That is _my_ problem. You can’t fix everything Victor.”

 _You can’t fix everything Victor._ The words hit him hard. All of the problems in the world, he believed, did have a solution. Everything. Nothing was broken forever. It just couldn’t be. How could anything be so cruel, to be broken and never be mended. Everything had a way to fix it.

“Maybe I just don’t want to focus on myself.” Victor stated. “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Yuuri felt his heart break. “Victor-“

“Can we talk about this later?” He said, swallowing. “I’m still rather unstable after that meeting, and we need to get home. It’s getting late.” He sighed, fingers tight around the steering wheel. “I knew we should have taken a taxi.”

Yuuri flashed him a look of concern. Victor clearly noticed, his eyes flickering away.

“The thing is, Yuuri.” Said Victor, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I want to listen to what you’re concerned about. I can help with that. But for me,” he said, checking behind him in the mirror. “Talking isn’t generally something that helps me that much. Of course, it does help me in some cases. But you always benefit from talking. Bottling up how you feel will only lead to more unnecessary pain.”

“I don’t want you to feel pain.”

“I need to work through this, Yuuri.”

“Is that really what you need?” Asked Yuuri.

Victor nodded. “You’ve been doing it perfectly so far. Have faith in yourself!”

There it was again. Victor comforting Yuuri. Why didn’t Victor want to be taken care of? Yuuri stared at Victor, admiring his bright blue eyes and that silver hair.

He shouldn’t push it more. Victor had had a bad enough day as it was. They didn’t need to talk right now. They could do it when they were back in Hasetsu, safe in their room, and far away from any noise or distractions.

Yuuri must have fallen asleep sometime after that, as the next thing he remembers is being carried out of the car, then feeling the soft sheets that smelled like high grade washing powder and Victor’s shampoo.

The bed dipped as the one in question slid under the covers. Arms wrapped around him, and kisses adorned his neck. Yuuri stretched and felt his back click, and he groaned. Victor was warm. Yuuri shuffled further into that warmth. He wanted to hold him until the universe disintegrated.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I hate arguing with you.”

“That was barely arguing.” Chuckled Victor. Yuuri felt the rumble of his laugh in his chest. “And you brought up some valid points. I wouldn’t even call it a spat.”

“Aren’t those synonyms?”

“Ugh, don’t bring up English grammar while we’re spooning.”

Yuuri laughed, prompting Victor to kiss his neck again. It tickled, but Yuuri leaned in. Victor knew how much he loved that. Blood rushed out of his head, leaving him dizzy as Victor sent shivers down his back and neck. It was slow, and indulgent, but still had the same effect as when they kissed roughly against the rink barrier, or when Victor bit into his skin while they made out on his bed.

“Do you want…?” Asked Victor, his eyes soft. He kissed his collar bone, sending a tingle through his nerves. But Yuuri felt like his eyes were stinging, and even the idea of moving made him lose a little strength. He groaned, pressing his face into the pillow.

“I’m too tired. Can we make love in the morning?” God that sounded cheesy, even from him. But Victor was flushed, and he grinned.

Victor kissed his lips, gently as if he was made of glass. “Of course.”

“You’re the best husband ever.”

“I think I know someone a little better.” He said, grinning, giving him one last kiss to the back of Yuuri’s neck.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

*

 

They barely got onto the plane in time.

“It’s not my fault you wanted it slow!” Said Yuuri, running to the airport. His glasses slid off his face while he ran, so he shoved them back to the bridge of his nose.

They didn’t even have time to put on the right clothes. Victor had chucked on Yuuri’s shirt before running to the kitchen to grab their things. Yuuri had fumbled through the semi darkness of the room without his glasses before finding Victor’s shirt from yesterday. He pulled it on, not noticing until they had climbed in the car. He was half unimpressed half enthralled to see a line of hickeys below his jaw. There was no way to cover it up. And the coy look on Victor’s face showed beyond a doubt that it had been on purpose. 

“Nonsense, you loved it.”

“We left half an hour late!” Cried Yuuri, shaking his head. “The only reason we got here on time is because you bribed our driver.”

“That wasn’t bribery. He just knew a faster way to get here!”

“I’m sure that move he pulled was _totally_ legal.” Said Yuuri, huffing.

“I have no idea.” Said Victor innocently.

“And then you ask me why I don’t trust Russian drivers.”

“Says the one without a licence.” Smirked Victor.

“I didn’t need one. But that’s beside the point.” Said Yuuri. They ran up to the woman, showed her their tickets, and got onto the plane. They made it my the skin of their teeth, the plane taking off just five minutes after they had put their bags away and settled down.

 

*

 

“Welcome back!” Cried Hiroko. “I thought you would be back a little later. It’s only 10.”

Yuuri hauled in his luggage, panting. “Tadaima!” He carried his bag up to their room. He came back down, hugging his mother. “Is there any dinner left?”

“I left some Tonjiru out. I’ll heat it up for you two. Are you hungry, Victor?”

“I’m always hungry when it comes to your cooking.” He grinned, sitting down at the table. Hiroko laughed.

“You don’t have to flatter me anymore, Victor.” She stood up and walked into the kitchen. “I already approve of you.”

“There is no such thing as too much flattery.”

Mari came glopping down the stairs. Makkachin came out, bounding towards Victor and dive-bombing him hard enough to knock him over, leaving slobbery kisses all over his face. “Hey Yuuri, Victor.” She said, smiling. “How was the trip?”

“We barely made it on the flight home.” Said Yuuri, sitting down beside Victor.

“But our taxi driver there was nice!” Said Victor. “It turns out he was a fan!”

“Wasn’t his leg a bit of a weird place to sign though?” Said Yuuri. The driver had freaked out, almost driving into a truck when he turned to see who had climbed in. He pulled out a sharpie, and Victor was happy to write his signature on his leg. “It would have been fine with just the selfie.”

“You need to be nice to your fans.” Said Victor. “Or you might end up with the situation that Yurio has with his Yuri’s Angels.” Yuuri had met a few of these so called ‘Angels.’ They were far from what he would describe as heavenly beings.

The food was great, as always. There was a surprising amount of news about them online, Mari said. The word had broken that Victor had gone back to Russia without any warning. “Your fans are going nuts.” Chortled Mari. “Especially since you didn’t release a statement about it. Seriously, three days not responding on social media, and people saying you died!”

Yuuri checked his phone. He wasn’t on twitter that much anyway, but there will still people asking him where Victor was. They had been so busy and consumed with everything that they hadn’t had time to really get online.

He took a photo of his Tonjiru, writing something like ‘Best thing I’ve had in a while’, and posting that. Hopefully that would calm them all down.

“Oh wow,” said Victor, checking through his phone, a hand petting Makkachin nonchalantly. “This is silly, someone posted a theory that I have cancer. It’s… actually pretty well written. Oh, dear.” He said, frowning. “No. This can’t be right.”

“What is it?” Said Yuuri, swallowing.

“Someone posted picture of us.” Victor’s frown. That worried him.

“Where?”

“Outside my mother’s house.”

“What?” Cried Yuuri, leaning forward. Sure enough, it was a photo of both of them, holding hands in front on the door. It was a little blurry, and they couldn’t make it out in detail. But the face of the woman with black hair was visible, her face in mid-sentence. God, he was mad. “You’ve got to be kidding me. We even took Yakov’s car, that’s ridiculous.”

“I know.” Victor’s frown deepened. He didn’t need to deal with this right now. There was so much else he had to do, this was unnecessary.

“I made sure we weren’t being followed.” Said Yuuri.

Victor finished his meal quickly, to the surprise of both Mari and Hiroko, and went to the room. “Thank you for the food.” He said, smiling slightly before going upstairs, Makkachin at his heels.

“Woah,” Said Mari. “Is he mad?”

Yuuri grimaced. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

He walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door. “Come in Yuuri.” Called Victor. “No, no, I’m not talking to you.” Victor was sitting on the bed, phone to his ear. He was speaking in hurried Russian.

“Should I leave?” Asked Yuuri, and Victor shook his head.

“It’s fine, I’m talking to Yakov about it. No, I’m talking to Yuuri.” Yuuri went to sit on the other side of the bed. “Yes, I know. I- no wait- we…. No.” Victor sighed. “We were being careful. But someone must have followed us. Yes, I double checked. Wait… you’re not- you aren’t really suggesting that are you?” Victor bit his lip, running a hand through his bangs. “I’m not saying that she couldn’t have. It’s just… she seemed genuine. I know.” Yuuri leaned closer. Should he really be listening to this? “I don’t want that to be the case. But I have no reason to suspect that. Hmm, but, then why would she… oh…” He said, his eyes going wide. “Oh… okay. Call me at 7. Your time.” He hung up, the phone dropping to his lap.

“What did he say?”

“Yakov thinks it was my mother.” Sighed Victor. “He had to go, but that is what he said. He thinks she asked someone to take the photos.”

“But… Why would she do that?” asked Yuuri. “It doesn’t make much sense, there are a ton already out there.”

“I have no idea. People can do it for money, or to get famous by association, or….” He frowned. “Or to try and slander me with something. It doesn’t matter at the moment who took it.” He scrolled through the comments. “People are going to ask questions, regardless of how these photos were taken.” He gripped his phone. “But if it was her…”

“Then she must have invited you over for that very reason.”

“Exactly. It’s not something I want to imagine to be true.”

Yuuri hugged him tightly. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He said. “I will make sure of it. Yakov can help us. It’ll work out.”

“I really don’t want this getting out to the public.”

“It won’t.” He declared. “I’ll call my old coach. I think he can help us, he’s dealt with this kind of this before. I’m going to do everything I can.”

Victor hugged him back.

Warmth.

They would keep each other safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading, I hoped you liked it!
> 
> If anyone is looking for any recommendations, I would definitely try Dance of the Red Death by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-. I've read this fic, and it is one of the most well-written fics I have ever seen. Don't read it if you are prone to crying already (like me) because you will not be able to stop after this.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter!  
> Cya guys soon! <3


	7. A Sexy Clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue lipstick apparently doesn't make Yuuri Katsuki look sexy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assure you, this chapter is completely 100% serious.

Just in a few hours, the pictures had spread like wildfire. Online, you couldn’t avoid it. Comments asking about who it was, and why they were there were everywhere. From post to post, to analysis blogs, to people trying to track down the location of the house. It was this deafening cacophony of noise that was inescapable.

Victor blearily checked his phone. It was 5:53. He had never really kicked the habit of waking up early for practice. He had had, what, four hours of sleep tops? Honestly, he did not have the energy for this right now. Yakov would call him at 12:00PM Japan time, so he had a few hours to do as much as he could.

He turned over. Yuuri was asleep, snoring quietly. He hugged his pillow, mumbling into it. Victor smiled. _What a cutie_ , he thought, admiring the beautiful man beside him. _What did I do in a past life to deserve you?_ Victor leaned over him, holding an arm to steady himself so he didn’t crash into his sleeping husband, who would definitely not appreciate being smothered beneath him. Gently, he reached over to the bedside table, pulling Yuuri’s phone back over to his side.

Victor checked Yuuri. Still asleep, he saw, breathing a sigh of relief.

He quickly found Celestino’s number, saving it to his phone. He might need it for later.

Victor sighed, rolling back over. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep. What time was it in America? They had something like 9 different time zones. Celestino should be in New York at the moment. Years of travelling from rink to rink and country to country had ingrained him with a good sense of what time it was in relation to his own.

6:01? It should be… 4:00pm in New York? Yeah, that was correct.

He pulled on his running shoes, running a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy. He quickly washed his face, pulling at his aging skin.

_Shit, I’m 29? Where had the years gone?_

Makkachin found him in the bathroom, and he pressed his wet nose against Victor’s leg. He pat him, cooing while stroking his fur. “Come on, back to Yuuri.” He said, grinning, pointing at their room. Makkachin bounded back in the room, supposedly forgetting that he had just been in the room a second ago, excitedly bouncing around the room.

“Go, in your bed.” He said. It always felt strange to speak to Makkachin in anything but Russian. When he settled back down, Victor closed the door. Yuuri would know he was at the rink.

Victor stopped at the bridge, panting. He took out his phone, dialling the number.

“Ciao ciao!” He said.

“Ciao Victor! Yuuri told me you were going to call.”

“Oh he did?” Yuuri was always so prepared for everything. “Great!”

“What have you done this time, Victor?” he said, sounding exasperated.

“Hey, don’t make assumptions. It’s not my fault this time! Allow me to explain.”

 

*

 

Celestino had dealt with a lot of figure skater scandals. At the rate he was going at, it was one per season. A skater is filmed making out with a fan, or rumoured to be gay, or goes to the wrong club gets drunk and starts a riot. They all end in the same way with Celestino. Let’s just say… he had friends in high places. Very high places. Friends that owned large social media platforms. Friends in politics. Stuff like that.

Not that it was a secret. Everyone knew he knew how to deal with information. It’s just the how that no one could figure out.

Celestino scrolled through his feed, smiling when he found it. A photo of Yuuri and Victor, holding hands in front of a house. A woman’s face was visible.

In all honesty, he didn’t care what it was about. Celestino couldn’t care less. But this photo needed to disappear.

He picked up his phone, placed it beside his ear, and waited.

 

*

 

Yuuri panted as he burst through the door to the rink.

“Did you call Celestino?” He gasped, breathing deep and hard. Victor nodded.

“He said he’d sort it out.” Yuuri agreed, unable to speak, so he gave a thumbs up.

“Yeah, he does that.” He said, finally wiping his brow. “Phichit had something a few years ago. It was recorded, and was spreading like crazy. Then one chat with Celestino, and in a couple days it was completely gone.” Yuuri grinned. “We have nothing to worry about. Celestino is awesome.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little shady. It sounds a little mafia.”

Yuuri mock gasped. “Just because he’s Italian? Victor, how rude!”

They both laughed, picturing Celestino being involved in the mafia was honestly ridiculous. He was so cheerful!

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do?” Said Yuuri, leaning over the rink. “I don’t care if it takes a long time. I just want to help you.”

Victor frowned. “Yuuri, I’ve already been cutting into your practice time.” He ran a thumb over Yuuri’s hand. “And there isn’t really anything to do but wait.”

“You will tell me if you need help.” Demanded Yuuri. “I don’t want to find out later that there is something else I could have done.”

“I’ll tell you if something comes up.” He said, leaning across the barrier to kiss Yuuri. He didn’t need that angry look on his face all the time, even if it was incredibly sweet how much he cared.

“Okay,” He said, pulling away, biting his lip.

Victor watched him careful as he performed, correcting his stance in certain places. This was a step up from last year. He would try and get the maximum amount of quads. Yuuri could very easily do a quad flip now, but no one cared about that anymore. As beautiful as it was, none of it surprised people. He would need something new.

A quadruple axel had never been done in competition. Which is why Yuuri was going to be the first. Victor could feel it in his being. It was time for that rule to be broken.

It was incredibly difficult. Victor had attempted it several times outside of competition, always ending up with his face flat on the ice. But he had never had as much malleability as Yuuri did. Never had he been able to adjust. Yuuri was like metal, able to be put under immense pressure without shattering. He conformed to a mould so easily. It was all about getting him out, and making him shine.

“Your triple axels are looking great. Just fix your free leg, you look wobbly when you land.”

They worked until 11:30, then hopping off the ice for lunch.

“I’m sorry, I have to call Yakov. Will you be fine on your own for a while?” He asked over sandwiches and hot tea. Yuuri kissed him, the scent of jasmine spilling into his own mouth.

“I’ll be fine. Take your time with it, I know you haven’t had a long talk with him since Russia.”

“Is that jasmine tea?” Asked Victor, grabbing Yuuri’s mug. “I didn’t know we had jasmine left.”

“We didn’t.” Said Yuuri, smirking slightly, trying to hide it by biting into his tuna sandwich. “I used the last bit up. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yuuri, that’s _my_ tea!” Scowled Victor, trying to feign disappointment.

“In sickness and in health,” He said, chugging down the tea. “For better or for worse!” He said, shoving the mug out of Victor’s reach. “We’re married, I can take your stuff.”

“More like till death do us part!” He said, glowering, but there were tears of laughter in his eyes. “Buy your own tea!”

A sudden buzz in his pocket almost made him jump. “It’s Yakov.” Said Victor, waving. “I’ll see you in a bit,”

Yuuri nodded, kissing him on the cheek before returning to the ice.

“Yasha, are you free to talk?” Asked Victor, walking outside.

“Yes, it is late. I won’t have any interruptions.”

“Good.” He said, smiling.

“How have you been Vitya?” The old man even sounded concerned.

“I’ve been okay. It was hell trying to talk to her.”

“I really thought you should have avoided meeting her.” He said gruffly.

“I had to, Yakov.” Said Victor, grimacing. “She’s been a mystery to me for so long. I had to do it, even just once.”

“I understand.” He said. “But it was still foolish.”

“Don’t lecture me,” chided Victor softly, but he smiled.

“So… are you happy now? After meeting her, did it fill some sort of need in your life?”

Victor laughed. “Ugh, I have no idea anymore, Yakov. It’s like everything is out of balance again. I didn’t need her anymore, but bringing her back just made me feel worse. I feel like something is missing again.”

“Then focus and try to articulate it!”

“I…” He said, trailing off. Yakov had always had a very strange method of parenting. “I – I don’t know why I feel like I need a parental figure in my life, it’s ridiculous.”

“You can always call me, Viktor.”

“No, I know that but… she’s just such a horrible person!” He ranted. “Did you see the photos online? I’m ruined if they find out she’s my mother.”

“I’m not going to dress it up for you. It makes perfect sense that it would be her.” He grumbled. “That nasty woman, always getting her hands on everything.”

“But why, Yasha? That’s what I’m trying to figure out. It just doesn’t make sense that she would do it for money, the photo is shitty and she’s already rich. She could be trying to get famous, but if I told the public what she did to me she would become the opposite. Making me look bad to fans, that one I understand. But why would she even care? She didn’t care enough to raise me.”

“It’s because she is a psychopath. No one in their right mind would leave their child with a stranger. She doesn’t have empathy.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“Harsh? She left you with me and didn’t return. Anyone with even half the empathy of a normal person wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t get Stockholm syndrome, she’s an awful human being and I won’t allow you to forget it.”

Victor sighs. “You read too many psychology books.”

“Every man needs a hobby.” Yakov sighed. “You never had a mother. But that doesn’t mean you get to go back to her as soon as it is convenient. She doesn’t deserve you in her life. I provided for you, a son that wasn’t my own, because I care about you. That woman cannot care. She doesn’t possess the capability to care.”

“Fine, okay, let’s say she had someone take the photos.” He said, hand on his hip. “Then how do we deal with it?”

“You’ve contacted Celestino?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should be fine.”

“Seriously, you really do trust him that much?” Yep. Definitely mafia.

“He’s been doing this sort of thing for years now. The photos should be gone in a week or two, but that doesn’t mean that you are off the hook. If anyone major picks up that photo, you won’t be able to hide it that easily.”

“Fuck.” He said, running a hand through his hair. “What am I supposed to do then?” His voice sounded desperate.

“Don’t answer any questions.” Said Yakov sternly. “Say nothing, and they will have nothing to use against you. Even if you feel like it will take some pressure off you, don’t say a word.”

“Any other tips?”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Victor sighed. “Thanks Yakov, that last one was really helpful. I’ll use it next time I think doing something stupid is a good idea.”

“Just stay safe Vitya.”

“I’m always safe. I won’t let her get to me.”

“I know. Tell Yuuri I said hello.” Victor rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay, old man. I love you, Yasha.”

“Love you. Don’t be a dumbass.”

His cell phone fell into his lap, warm from the press against his ear. He felt lighter, like something had been lifted off his shoulders.

Victor made his way back inside, pulling his coat on tight.

“How did it go?” Asked Yuuri, casually doing his step sequence.

“Good. I don’t really think that there is anything I can do now though. It’s all out of my hands at the moment. To be honest, it’s a little scary. I don’t like relying on Celestino.”

“Don’t worry about him, Victor. Besides, you deserve a break.”

Victor chuckled. “I suppose I do.”

 

*

 

Yuuri never got calls. He would skype Phichit, and text everyone else. But… Yurio?

“Hello?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yuuri, I have to ask you a serious question.” Said Yurio. “And I need you to promise not to tell your dumbass husband.”

“Sure.” He said, nodding. He sounded so serious, it must be something really awful. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not!”

“Okay, you made your point!” He said, laughing. “I really won’t tell him.”

“Okay. Phew.” He said, taking a deep breath. “How did you convince Victor to screw you?” It was said all within the same breath, and Yuuri didn’t realise what he had said for a moment, before-

Yuuri heaved. “Screw?” He asked, his face turning red. That was a rather vulgar word for what they had done.

“You know. Sex.”

“I know what it means!” Insisted Yuuri. “And what makes you think I had to convince him? I’m not that ugly.”

“You know what I mean!” Screamed Yuri. “Just- how did you do it?”

“What-“said Yuuri, his face slowly getting more and more pale. “I- I’m not exactly someone who should be telling you this kind of stuff! Should I get Victor to come and explain it?”

“What are you, fucking gay?” Screeched Yuri. “Just tell me what you did!”

“Well, I- um – we- oh god Yurio I really can’t tell you all this!” He said retching. “It’s too graphic! And not to mention personal. You should really be asking Victor about this kind of stuff, he is far better at explaining this… stuff.”

“FUCK!” He yelled. “ _That_ is not what I meant, dumbass!” He groaned. “I know how sex works! What I’m asking is how you convinced him. You know what I mean!”

“Wait, wait.” Said Yuuri. “Is this… Otabek?”

“Yes.”

“What is Otabek doing?”

“He’s not doing FUCKING anything! THAT is my problem!” He yelled, kicking something in the background. “He wants to wait until I’m 18.”

“That sounds reasonable. I didn’t have sex until I was 24.”

“That’s cause you were a loser virgin with no life!” Cried Yurio. “I have a boyfriend! But he won’t even touch me! Fuck my life.”

“I think it’s kind of sweet.” Said Yuuri.

“Hypocrite.”

“Listen, Yuri.” He said. “If Otabek wants to wait, then you can’t really force him to do anything.”

“But he clearly wants it!” Yuri said. “He even told me. But he has this whole bullshit rhetoric about ‘not wanting me to regret it,’ or ‘I want to you be sure that I’m the one you want,’ or ‘fair maiden, I wish to protect your honor cause I’m a little bitch!’” He grit into the phone.

“I don’t know what to tell you Yurio.” Said Yuuri, sighing. “Just wait it out. You have ten months until you’re 18. Go out on dates, go to the movies. Kiss, I don’t know. That’s what Victor and I did.”

“Thanks shithead. Your advice is fucking dumb.” He hung up the phone, leaving Yuuri alone again.

Not two minutes later, he heard laughter from his bedroom. Yuuri opened the door to find Victor almost in tears, clutching the phone.

“Oh dear, speak of the devil!” He said, giggling into his phone.

“What?” Asked Yuuri.

“Yurio is asking me for advice,” He whispered. “No, no, I think it’ll be a great idea if you wear that.”

Shit, Victor definitely wasn’t giving him any good advice. He had this wicked grin on his face like he was planning world domination.

“Yurio!” He yelled. “Whatever you do, don’t wear what he is telling you to wear! It’s a trap, it doesn’t work!”

“Aww, don’t ruin it!” Said Victor, falling onto the bed laughing.

“Don’t give 17-year-olds bad advice. Yurio’s dumb enough to do it.”

“I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU TWO!” Screamed Yuri, loud enough that Victor could hear.

“I’m sorry Yurio!”

“That’s not my-“                                                      

“But don’t wear it! It will only make Otabek laugh at you. Especially with the blue lipstick. It looks dumb.”

“Wait- how do you kno-“ Yuuri shut him off.

“Why? I’m sure he wouldn’t really have done it!” Said Victor, wiping tears from his cheeks.

“You convinced drunk-me that blue lipstick made me look sexy.” Said Yuuri dryly. “It made me look like a clown. I know you were trying to get him to wear it.”

“A sexy clown.”

“And this is why I don’t drink around you anymore.” He sighed. Victor fell back in peals of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love it when Yuri relies on his friends and family. Maybe just not Victor and Yuuri when it comes to particular topics though!  
> This chapter went from serious to crack in 0.12 seconds. :\
> 
> I don't know what's going on anymore. It's about 1 in the morning. I'm sure I'll read this chapter in the morning and freak out at all the mistakes!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it! Happy New Years everyone! Hopefully 2017 isn't as screwed up! ;) We can only go up from here


	8. Yeah, fall you bitch!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know it's been a few days! I've been busy with one of my other fics, called 'In spite of the world'. I would definitely check it out if you have the time!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Her days are filled with silence.

She wonders about her house, touching the walls, trailing her fingers down the bone white paint, considering. _Should I have rather gone with a beige? Or would that not go well with the gold?_ It was dull.

Time passed at a snail’s pace. Every minute was felt with emphasis. “Boring, boring, boring,” She muttered, flicking through her large collection of movies. She just didn’t feel inspired to watch any of it. There wasn’t any interest in anything that she had been interested in just a few years ago.

Alyona spent an hour at her piano, playing until her fingers thrummed with heat and life. They hurt. She kept playing until they went numb. _This piece is complete rubbish._ She thought, slamming the final chords hard enough to bruise the tips of her fingers

Dull.

She tapped her fingers against the rails, listening to the metal click against her nail.

“Майя!” She shouts. The young maid comes running out from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mistress?” She said, tightening her ponytail. “I was just making dinner.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, waving a hand. “Can you get the phone for me?” She shook her head. “I can’t seem to find it.” The girl looked at her sympathetically. It made her want to vomit.

“I’ll find it for you.” She said, pulling off her apron, rushing around like a lost puppy. Майя was always eager to impress her. It was never going to happen. She never stuck with the same maid for long. They always learn too much, or get too comfortable around her. They start to get friendly. Alyona hates friendly. _At least this one can cook_ , she thought, frowning. The last one burned her pots.

Alyona sighed, making herself a coffee. It was late, but the chances of sleeping now were very low to begin with.

Grey hair. Bright blue eyes. _Just like his father_ , she thought, shivering. The betrayed look in his eyes. She hated feeling guilty, so she tried to avoid it as much as possible. As an extremely successful business owner, she needed to avoid guilt. No one had what she had and didn’t fight teeth and claw to grab it from others. It was just the name of the game. Cut-throat tactics seemed normal to her.

But, the way she had felt while he sobbed into his arms like a child, shit. While raising him, she had never possessed any maternal instinct. She didn’t care for him in the ways she saw others care for their children. That was something that Alyona hadn’t really understood at all. The automatic desire to protect had just never kicked in.

Perhaps it had happened gradually. Watching him live his life through her screen. Learning to admire his abilities, seeing him grow into the strongest of figure skaters. Cheering as he did a quadruple flip, booing at the other skaters as they tried earnestly to beat him.

“Yeah!” She said, shoving her middle finger at the screen of her laptop. She drank deeply from the wine bottle. Alyona always drank while watching him. “Yeah, fall, bitch!” She yelled, wooing as the rival skater fell straight on his face.

She grew quiet while watching him though, sipping from the bottle that she rested between her knees. _I made that._ She thought wistfully. _I created that human being._

Maybe that was when it had happened. His fourth world medal hanging from his neck. She felt a wave of pride that almost made her feel sick again. Other mothers didn’t have trouble forming a connection.

“This is what they meant?” She said, sighing, watching him spin. There it was, that desire to have him close, to pull him back to Russia. What 13 years of raising a child hadn’t done, watching his skating routines had done in a few years?

She went to the doctor, wondering if her hormone levels were off. It wasn’t normal. She never felt a connection to him before watching him dance on the ice. Victor bearing down on the other skaters. It sort of reminded her of herself.

Maybe, that was when it had clicked in her brain.

And now, she felt it. The guilt, the shame. It drove her up the wall, hurting her as much as it pissed her off that she wasn’t able to even control her own thoughts from straying back to his face. His red, tearful face, looking upon her with anxiety and disgust.

Alyona remembered how she felt as well. Finding out he was coaching that Japanese man. Watching a couple of his performances. They weren’t great, but he conveyed emotion and character. Technically, he wasn’t that brilliant, but the passion and fire was there. That was something she could admire. But she couldn’t quite understand why Victor would drop everything for this man in another country.

“Ahh.” She said, watching as Victor leapt towards Yuuri, kissing him on the ice as fans screamed and cameras went off like machine guns. “You did have an ulterior motive.” The affection before had seemed one sided. Now, however, as they looked at each other, tears gleaming in their eyes, she found it difficult to imagine it had been.

Slowly, without even realizing it, she had stopped being repulsed at their displays of affection. She didn’t feel the bile rising up in her throat anymore. Alyona tried to feel some sort of anger towards his decision. Why he couldn’t just find a lovely Russian girl to treat him well was beyond her. Victor looked elated, hand cradling Yuuri’s head from the ice.

The rings had almost given her a heart attack. He was truly devoted to this Japanese man.

She cried over the wedding photos. Half of it was grief. Grief that what she had done had failed. Leaving him with Yakov had done nothing. He had sealed the deal, finally married this man. There was no going back for him. There was no chance he would ever marry a woman, and have the life he was meant to. It was impossible now. Half of it was regret. What would she had said if she had been there? Would it have been the same? Would she feel the same as she did now? Regret that she hadn’t been there for him when he had needed it.

“Here it is!” Said Майя, running down the stairs so quickly Alyona thought she might trip. “I found it in-“

“I don’t care where you found it,” she said, pulling the phone from Майя and entered her password. “You can continue with dinner, we eat at 8:00.”

Майя nodded, cheerful in a way that made Alyona want to slap her.

It was 5:00. She had three hours to pluck up the courage and call Victor again. She took a deep breath, and dialed the number.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe you never told me you liked anime.” Said Victor, arm around Yuuri. They watched something on his laptop. Something Magica? “I thought we were over you not telling me things.”

“I don’t know, it’s a bit embarrassing!” Said Yuuri, laughing.

“I don’t know how you can be embarrassed around me at all.” Said Victor. “Especially this. I mean, I’ve seen you watch far more compromising things.” He smirked, running a finger across Yuuri’s flushed face.

“No, don’t you even start with that!” Said Yuuri, trying to glare at him, but half laughing. “You can’t blame me for that! You were ignoring me, I needed an outlet. You can’t tease me for that.”

“Really?” Said Victor, pausing. “Because from my memory, it was you who didn’t want to talk to me. Instead you hid yourself behind your screen-”

“Can we not talk about you catching me doing… that.” He mumbled, arms covering his face. Victor kissed his elbow, which made Yuuri grin.

“At least the guy resembled me. How many of those videos did you have to watch to find someone as good looking as me?”

“Victor, I will throw you out the window, and then myself.” He said, giggling. “Makkachin can inherit my belongings.” Makkachin leapt up at the mention of his name. Yuuri pulled the laptop up so that Makkachin didn’t come barrelling into it. He jumped onto Victor’s lap, ignoring Yuuri completely.

“Don’t be embarrassed Yuuri.” Said Victor, grinning. “Watch whatever you like. I know you only have eyes for me.”

“Please just stop, I don’t even do it that often.”

“That often.” Said Victor, putting on that innocent smile that fooled no one.

“I want a divorce.” He said, pulling the covers up to hide his face, and also hide how much he was smiling. “I’ll get a new husband that doesn’t tease me about that one time he walked in on me.”

“Ah, I’m sorry Yuuri,” Cried Victor. “It’s just so much fun getting a reaction out of you! Your expressions are just so beautiful.” He pulled back the covers, giving him a peck on the nose. His phone buzzed on the table, and he kissed him one last time before leaning over to grab it.

Мама.

“What?” Asked Yuuri, leaning over to look at his screen. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He said. “Should I answer it?”

“If you want to, I won’t stop you,” Yuuri said.

“But, we’re watching a story right now.”

“No, Victor.” Said Yuuri. “Do what you want.”

Victor sighed, swiping the green button on his phone.

“Мама.” He said, voice dull.

“Vitya, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Did she sound… nervous?

“Мама, wait.” He said, sighing. “I need to ask you about something first. And I need you to tell me the truth.” He waited for her to answer.

“Okay?” She responded, slightly confused. “What?”

“Did you take the photos?”

“What photos?” She asked. Now she sounded really confused. When he didn’t answer, she asked again. “Viktor, what photos?”

“The photos of us outside your house.” He said, voice tight. “Did you get someone to take them?”

“There are photos of us?” She hissed. “Viktor, when did this happen?”

“Recently.” He muttered. “So you didn’t take the photos?”

“No.” She said. “Wait, am I in one of these photos?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it,” She said. “Viktor, you need to take those photos down immediately!”

“I didn’t post them. But I’m having someone remove them.”

The woman sighed across the line. “Fuck.” She muttered, the sound of keys echoing in the background of her phone. “I’d like to avoid having people know where I live.” She said.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure whether or not you can tell,” She said sarcastically. “But not a lot of people like me.”

“Obviously.”

“And some of those people have no problem with inflicting property damage. My last house had people try to come and spray paint the sides of it. I really don’t want to deal with that again.” She sighed.

“So… you didn’t post the photos?” He asked, still apprehensive.

“Hell no.” She said. “I don’t want to deal with vandals.”

“If I find out you’re lying-“

“Vitya, we’re on the same side here,” she insisted. “I want those pictures removed. I haven’t been on the internet for a while now, so I have missed a lot.”

“Sure.” He said, still not sounding entirely convinced. “But you have to know that it is very difficult to trust you here at all.”

“I understand,” she said. “It doesn’t matter, you need to remove the pictures with my face or my house.”

“Hmmm.” Thought Victor for a moment. Maybe, just maybe, she was telling the truth. He would need to wait for confirmation from Celestino first. But he would be cautious. “So, what was it that you wanted to ask me? It is late.”

“Why are you like this?” She asked.

“Why am I what?”

“Why are you gay?” She asked. Victor recoiled. That was entirely unexpected.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked. He would try to remain neutral, he decided. Launching onto the ‘you should accept me’ train would just make her pull away.

Yakov had originally been repulsed by his attraction to other men, even though he was entirely in support of him doing what he wanted with his own life. Victor had never tried to make him accept it either. He just let it be, letting Yakov know small bits of his life, like who he was dating, or commenting on which male skaters seemed the most attractive. He hadn’t tried to shove it in his face, and avoided making Yakov uncomfortable. It worked. Slowly over time, Yakov came around, even meeting a couple of his boyfriends at one point. He had made a complete turnaround, and now couldn’t give less of a shit that he was married to Yuuri.

“I want to understand.” She sighed. “I want to understand why this is. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this, but it baffles me. I’m just trying to understand you.” She said. “It doesn’t make sense to me.” She genuinely sounded confused.

“What doesn’t make sense?” He asked.

“You’re a man, Viktor.” She said. “Wouldn’t you be happier with a woman?” All things he had heard before. Even Yakov asked him this once. He didn’t even blame her.

“Мама, I don’t like women that way.” He explained. “I don’t find women attractive.”

“Have you ever had sex with a woman?” She said, bluntly. He frowned.

“Once. It wasn’t a very good experience.” When he was 23, he became exceptionally drunk, and ending up sleeping with another female skater. It wasn’t exactly repulsion. He just didn’t really feel anything for her, having to shut his eyes and picture someone else. Not exactly pleasant.

“You can’t swear off all woman just because of that one experience.” She said. He could picture her rolling her eyes.

“I think you’re missing the point I’m trying to make.” He said. “I just don’t feel anything. But I do feel attracted to men.” He sighed. “Мама, it’s not something that can be changed.”

“But, Vitya.” She said. “How do you know that? I’m sure if you tried to think of a woman…”

He needed to make a comparison. Maybe then she would understand. “Мама, try to think of…” he said, thinking for a moment. “Your maid. You can clearly see that she is attractive, right?” He said.

“Sure, but-“

“No, let me finish.” He said calmly. “You can see that she is pretty, but could you see yourself holding her hand, or kissing her? Making love to her?”

“No, she’s a woman, that-“

“You can’t see it, can you?” He said over her. “You can’t imagine yourself doing those things, because it feels unnatural to you.”

“Yes…” She said, thinking for a moment. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“That is exactly how I feel about women. Of course, I am able to see when a woman is attractive, but anything else makes me uncomfortable. It feels unnatural to me. Could you ever imagine enjoying having sex with a woman?” He asked, gently.

“No.”

“Then by your own logic, you cannot change how you feel about those sorts of things. I can’t help that I don’t feel anything for women. I’m only attracted to men.”

She paused for a moment, thinking. “So, you didn’t choose this.”

“Мама, I would never choose this. It’s just how things are.”

At any other point in his life, he would have given up a limb to be straight. Perhaps, maybe not that far (he still had a career to think about), but it was something he would have changed. But after Yuuri, there was no way he would ever even consider it. There couldn’t possibly be a woman in the world with the beauty and life as Yuuri Katsuki.

“Vitya.”

“I’m sure even you can see that it is harder for people like me.” He said, attempting to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “My country admires my contributions, but disregards my marriage. When I was just starting my career, I had to be careful with everything I did, everything I posted. It wasn’t easy. And it is very difficult to receive the same benefits as you would if you were married to a man. We are not recognized as a couple by either of our countries.” He sighed, letting the information wash over his back. It didn’t sting, it didn’t even graze him. Progress was slow, but there was no point in letting it hurt.

“I… I don’t know how to feel about this, Vitya.” She said. “But I am trying my best.”

“I’m sure.” He said.

“It’s not a choice then?”

“No, it’s not.” He said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t strive for personal happiness just because I don’t conform to the norm. Yuuri makes me happy.” Warmth spread out through his chest just at the mention of Yuuri’s name.

“I suppose that is good.” She said stiffly. “That was all I wanted to ask.”

“Is that everything?” He asked.

“Yes. Thank you, Vitya.”

She hung up the phone, and Victor sighed. It was exhausting talking to her. It had been years since he had used those arguments, but they were like an automatic response. He had gotten that sort of thing a lot when the media caught wind of him.

“Yuuri?” He asked, walking into the dark bedroom. Yuuri looked up from the pile of cushions he had heaped around himself.

“Hmm?”

“I need a hug.” He said, collapsing into the bed, looking up at Yuuri. “I am hug deprived. I’ll die without your embrace.”

Yuuri hugged him tightly. “Better?” he asked, snuggling into his arms. Yuuri burrowed his way underneath the blankets, bringing Victor with him. They settled into the warmth, breathing in the same air, hearts as one.

“Better.” He said, beaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!
> 
> I hoped you liked that chapter! It's been a week since I last updated this story, but don't worry! I should be back to my regular updates very soon!
> 
> Also, has anyone checked out 'Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju'? It's an amazing show that really hasn't gotten the recognition that it needs, and is one of my top 5 for this year!
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	9. Victor keeps leaving his damn shoes in the doorway, and Yuuri is fucking over it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, this has been one hell of a ride! Thank you to everyone that had supported me so far, your comments really do mean the world to me! When I lack motivation, I just scroll to the bottom and see all your wonderful messages! You all truly have helped me write this!
> 
> Only one more chapter to go after this one! I hope you enjoy the second to last chapter of this fic!

Yuuri hobbled inside, leaning on Victor as he pulled off his shoes.

“Do you need help getting upstairs?” Asked Victor, watching with concern as his graceful husband gingerly put his foot down to support himself, before wincing. The only thing that was keeping him from rushing over and assisting him was the constant assertion Yuuri had made on the way there that he was a strong 25 year old that didn’t need to rely on anyone. He would have laughed if it didn’t seem like Yuuri was in pain.

“It's fine, Vitya,” he reassured, his sore foot jerking up, away from the carpet. “It’s just bruised.”

Victor pulled his own shoes off, grimacing as Yuuri tentatively walked up the stairs. “I’ll be there in a minute, love.” He said, smiling gently. “Let me get you an icepack.”

“Uh huh.” Said Yuuri, leaning on the railing. “Don’t make me fall again,”

Victor stiffened. “Are you going to fall?” He was ready to run up and catch him if need be. But Yuuri turned, a cheeky, tired smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” He said, smirking. “I’ve already fallen for you.” He chuckled, hopping his way up the next few steps, totally disregarding the instantaneous blush that had fixed itself on Victor’s face. “Hurry up, _Anata_. Don’t take too long.” His laugh echoed down the hallway, singeing Victor’s nerves.

 _I’ve created a monster,_ he thought.

“Oh, Vi-chan, I didn’t expect you!” Said Hiroko, stirring a pot of something that smelled divine. She was making the evening meals, as more customers came to relax after a long day of work. “I thought you two would be out late.”

Victor leaned on the bench, sighing. “No, he fell.” He waited for her to move out of the way so he could begin trying to find the ice packs. They hadn’t been used in a while, having avoided injury for the most part.

“Is he okay?” She asked, concern flashing over her face, a frown on her lips. It was strange seeing her like this. But if it was really serious, they wouldn’t have come back to the onsen.

“He’s fine. Just bruised.” Said Victor, fishing out a bag of frozen potatoes. “He’ll recover soon.”

“That’s good to hear!” Said Hiroko, sighing. “Don’t push him too hard. You still have a lot of time.”

“I know,” he said, finally spotting the ice packs, pulling them out like they were treasure. He pulled two of them out, stuffing all the frozen items he had dumped on the floor back into the freezer.

“Don’t let my son get hurt, Vi-chan.” She said smiling. Victor felt himself shiver, and it wasn’t because of the ice packs. Hiroko was scary when she was angry. But this wasn’t anger. It was a mother’s unease, unable to take care of her son the same way she had years ago.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, giving her a quick bow before smiling. “Yuuri is in perfectly good hands.”

Hiroko laughed, so similar to the way Yuuri laughed. “Oh, don’t look so concerned Victor! I’m only teasing, I know you’ll keep him safe! Go on,” she said, turning to chop up some vegetables. “Take care of him.”

He ran upstairs, dodging Mari, and into the bedroom. Makkachin wagged his tail, pressing against his legs for attention. Victor stepped over him, giving him a pat before climbing on the bed. Yuuri turned, his phone resting on his chest. He leaned out with a hand, stroking his cheek with a thumb, grinning. Victor shuffled down, pulling off Yuuri’s socks. He hissed.

“Sorry,” He said, planting a kiss on the ankle.

“Just be careful.” Yuuri sighed, leaning back on his elbows, watching. His eyes went wide, staring. “Woah, that looks bad,” he said. The foot was red, swelling.

Victor frowned, gently putting pressure on one side of his foot. Yuuri bit his lip, groaning. “Can you move your toes for me?” He asked, and Yuuri complied, fingers tightening in the sheets. Victor grimaced, rubbing his leg gently. “Thank you, Yuuri. I’ll put the ice packs on now, I know it must hurt.”

“So, it’s not too bad?” Asked Yuuri, leaning back on the pillows. Victor shook his head, placing the ice on his leg.

“No, there will just be some bruising. But if it hurts anymore then we’ll have it checked by a doctor.” He leaned over, pecking him on the lips. “You’ll survive.”

“Ugh, it’s cold.” Yuuri sighed, pulling the covers around his legs. “This is going to kill me.”

“I’m sorry Yuuri,” he said, kissing the words against his neck, each one an apology. “I’m sorry, I should have known you weren’t ready for that jump.” Kisses pressed against his collarbone like jewels. “You did so well today as well.” He smiled sadly, humming into his ear. “I knew you were tired, but I told you to do the triple axel anyway.”

“Shh, Vitya,” He said, pulling Victor away. “It was an accident. I over rotated. I fell.” Yuuri chuckled. “Blame gravity. And my legs.”

“I’ll blame gravity.” He said.

“Yeah, damn gravity.” Said Yuuri, kissing him. Victor smiled a little, pulling away. He looked away. “Vitya?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you okay? Don’t blame yourself.”

Victor shook his head. “No, it’s not that.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t think you should try the quad axel.” Yuuri’s expression darkened.

“Why?” He asked cautiously.

“Your triple axels aren’t looking too great Yuuri,” he said grimly. “And now this? You haven’t even done a quadruple axel.” He bit the side of his cheek. Yuuri definitely wouldn’t like this. “Maybe it’s just not the right time.”

“But you said that’s what you wanted,” Said Yuuri. He was turned away, but Victor could see his, frankly, unpleasant expression. “What else am I supposed to do this year? We were supposed to make history together.”

“I know.” He said. “But you’re going to push yourself too far.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Well, I do.” Insisted Victor. “It’s not a viable option. We could always change it out for a flip, or even a loop if that’s what you want to work towards.” He put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “You’re trying so hard to do this.”

“I’ve been working on this for months.”

“I know.”

…

Yuuri exhaled, pulling the covers up. He clenched his teeth, adjusting his foot.

“Falling like that isn’t a very good sign.” Yuuri huffed. “For your safety, I think its best that we just keep to the quads you’re good at.”

Yuuri looked over at him, confused. “I thought you were all about breaking boundaries. Breaking records.”

“Maybe I’ve gotten mellower with age.”

“Definitely.” Said Yuuri. “I’m not going to make any promises.”

“Yuuri,” He grumbled.

“Victor,” said Yuuri. “We’ll work it out. Okay? Just… let this heal, and then we can talk about the quad axel again.”

“Your mother made me promise not to let you get hurt.”

Yuuri scoffed. “And? Has that stopped me before? Come on, Victor,” he said, smirking. “Don’t lose your edge now. Besides, my mom is harmless. And if I don’t do it this year, when am I going to do it.”

“I was 29 when I retired.”

“That’s you though.” He said. “We are different. I feel like I’m changing, even now. Most of the other skaters are five years younger than me. And how long until Yuri catches up with me, huh?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Warned Victor.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” Asked Yuuri. “I don’t want a fight.”

“This isn’t fighting,” Recoiled Victor. “I’m only looking out for your wellbeing.”

“Vitya, stop.” He said, placing a finger over Victor’s mouth. “Stop. No fighting. Nope, later.” He said, ignoring Victor’s protests. “We have a few days off. Plenty of time to talk.”

Victor kissed him on the head. “Okay, _solnyshko_. Later then. This isn’t off the table.”

“Of course.” He said, rolling his eyes before picking up his phone again, scrolling through Instagram. Victor stared at him for a moment.

The minute he had fallen on the ice, Victor had felt like his heart had stopped. He had been on his phone, just for a moment, and then he heard a cry out on the ice. Even if he had been looking at Yuuri, it’s not like he could have run out to stop him from falling. Victor had been confident that Yuuri could do a triple axel, but it took just a second of miscalculation to unravel in the air. He had rushed over, skates biting into the ice, picking him up gently. It was unlikely that Yuuri would be able to ever compete again if he broke his leg. A sprain would have been just as bad, holding him back for a season.

There was really so much that could stop him now. Chris retired last year, only 26. Yuuri was the oldest figure skater at that level. It was scary being at the top, knowing that anything and everyone were against you. So many people wanted you to topple and fall. Victor had been at the top for so long that no one had expected him to fail.

But Yuuri had only recently been recognized for his brilliance. He was fresh and new in the minds of his competitors, a wild card that had seeming carved his way out from the bottom. He did often wonder whether the pressure would get to Yuuri. It was hard seeing him do this. He always tried his best. He had tried so hard to master his axels, pushing himself close enough to the edge that it would take so little to push him over. But seeing him like this was terrifying. One fall and it was over for the season.

Yuuri charged his phone, placing it face-up so he could lean over to check the time. He was a restless sleeper, not that he had nightmares just that he woke up occasionally and needed to know the time. The small light illuminating Yuuri’s side didn’t bother him too much. Yuuri kissed him, the taste of toothpaste and the chamomile tea Yuuri drank before bed on his tongue.

Victor took the ice packs back downstairs, stuffing them back into the freezer. He climbed back into bed, thinking about how he would spend the next few days.

He did have a few plans. He had one thing in particular that he wanted to do. Once the press was gone, (or at least as gone as they could be), he wanted to call his mother again. Victor couldn’t risk letting the public know about his mother. The feeling was too raw to let loose into the world.

Perhaps, he thought, closing his eyes. Perhaps, he could forgive her.

Yuuri wouldn’t like it. Yakov would be mad. But how else was he supposed to get her off his mind? Carrying around all this frustration and anger made him tired. And Victor was so damn tired of being tired.

 

*

 

“You want to do what?” Asked Yuuri, eyes wide now that had nothing to do with the coffee he had nearly spilled all over the sheets.

“Forgive her.” He said. “I mean, sure. I know she’s horrible.”

“She is worse than horrible!”

“But…” he said. “I don’t think it’s healthy to keep hating her.”

Yuuri sat back, frowning. “You don’t have to forgive her.” He said. “You don’t need to do any of that stuff.”

“People make mistakes.”

“No, a mistake is an accident.” Said Yuuri. “A mistake is you forgetting to put your shoes away. A mistake is me falling on the ice.” He placed his coffee down, leaning forward to hold Victor’s hands. His own were warm from the drink, soft and gentle. He threaded his own fingers between Yuuri’s. “What she did, abandoning you? That was purposeful. She didn’t leave you there accidentally.”

“I know, but it’s… she thought she was doing the right thing. She didn’t think.”

“Of course she didn’t think.”

“She thought she was doing the right thing by leaving me behind.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking into Yuuri’s dark brown eyes. He looked back, eyes gleaming. “She honestly thought she was doing the best thing, even if it was the wrong thing to do.” Victor sighed. He brushed back Yuuri’s hair away from his glasses.

“It was evil.” Yuuri was glaring, still holding tightly onto his other hand.

“I don’t believe it was done with bad intentions.”

“The intentions don’t matter.”

“I think they do.” Said Victor. “And, I just don’t want to be angry anymore. I think if I try to forgive her, it might help me.”

“If you are going to do this, Vitya.” Said Yuuri. “Then do it for yourself. Don’t do it for anyone else other that yourself.”

“I’m doing this for myself.” Yuuri sighed, staring back at him. He shook his head, leaning in to give him a hug. He was still warm from sleep, limbs still tired as he embraced him.

“Then I’ll support you.” He said. “Just don’t expect me to like her. I don’t think I could ever forgive her for what she did. I don’t know how you can do it.” Yuuri kissed his chest, right over where his heart was. “Maybe you’re just a better person than me.”

“I’m not a better person, love. It’s not like I need to be friendly with her.” Said Victor. “The only thing I want to do is stop having it hang over my head all the time. I want to be over this.”

“She doesn’t deserve a son like you.”

“I know she doesn’t.”

“Good.” Said Yuuri, pulling back.

 

*

 

“Ah, thank god.” Said Victor. “I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon.”

“Yes, Viktor.” Said Yakov, clear disapproval radiating from him. “I have twenty-three missed calls from you. What is it? I don’t have time.”

“Okay, okay.” He said, laughing. “Okay, I just need to tell you about something. And I don’t want you to freak out.”

“Sure, Vitya. What is it?”

“I’m going to try and make amends with my mother.”

“What?!” Victor could already picture the red rising, blood boiling. “Vitya, you aren’t joking?”

“No,” he said. “I just want to stop being angry at her. I’m sick of it.”

“Vitya, stop this nonsense. You can’t forgive that woman, she’s a psychopath!”

“Yasha, I’m sick of being held back by my past.”

“VIKTOR!” He shouted. “Are you doing this because you miss her?! Just call me, you don’t need her!”

“No, this is about me.” He sighed. “I just wanted to tell you.”

“I raised you like you were my own, and now you want to forgive that monster?! Do you know how much I struggled to make sure you had a good life?!”

“I know you worked hard.”

“Please, Vitya. Do not forgive her, you do not need that woman. If you need help, ask me! Haven’t I provided for you all these years?”

“It’s not about help. I don’t need her, Yasha. The only thing I want is to get over her!”

“So you’re going to fall right back to her?!” Said Yakov, furious. “Don’t do this. You have a family!”

“Listen, I want to ignore her. I want her to get out of my life, but that isn’t how life works! I have to deal with it somehow. Ignoring her isn’t going to make it any better for me.”

“So everything I did for you is nothing, huh!” Said Yakov. “All that effort has gone to nothing!”

Victor groaned. “Please don’t act like this,”

“Vitya-“

“I knew you were going to react this way!”

“VITYA-“

“I shouldn’t even have told you this until afterward-“

“VIKTOR!” He shouted. “Don’t speak over me!”

“And what are you going to do about it?” He said, which made Yakov want to pull his hair out.

“Vitya! This will not help you. Forgiveness is not what you need! Ignore her, she doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Can you listen to what I am saying?” He said into the phone. “This is for me! I need this. I need to get over this!” He sighed, stepping back from the phone.

“She doesn’t care about you.” Said Yakov.

“Okay, Yakov.” Sighed Victor, almost slamming the phone into his forehead. “I’ll talk to you later!”

“VITYA DO NOT HANG UP-“

“Bye Yakov! Love you.”

“VIKTOR, I’LL-“

_Beep!_

He groaned, and Yuuri placed a hand on his.

“That went smoothly.” He said, smiling.

“Yakov is always like that,” Victor said. “He’ll calm down. He’ll call me back in an hour.”

“I could hear him yelling from here.” Said Yuuri. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay? You did hang up on him.”

“He was just going to keep yelling.” Said Victor. “Yuuri, he just needs a little time to blow off steam.”

“I feel sorry for him.” Mumbled Yuuri. “It must seem like a betrayal.”

“He knows better than that.”

“You don’t think you’re being a little mean, Vitya?” Said Yuuri, leaning closer.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” He tilted his head, their lips touching, barely grazing like butterfly kisses. “I’m sure he will understand. He has a difficult time adjusting to new things. I’m sure he will forgive me.”

“As long as you’re sure about this,” said Yuuri. “It still feels like a bad idea to me. But if it makes you feel better, then I don’t mind.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” He asked. “What if I still feel like something is missing?”

“Then I’ll do what I can to help,” Yuuri said, placing his phone back down. He pulled his legs in gingerly, carefully moving his foot. “If letting it go doesn’t help, then I will try my best to support you.” He chuckled. “Don’t you know this by now, Vitya?”

“I’m just worried that this is the wrong thing.”

“Then we keep trying.” He said. “We keep trying until we find something that works. Even if it takes forever.”

Victor hugged him, gently avoiding his sore foot. “I know. Thank you, Yuuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I was going to post this as soon as I got to 6000 hits, and now it's out!  
> Only one more chapter to go! Hopefully, I will get it out this weekend!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been encouraging me along the way, you all have been a huge help! Your comments really do make my way.
> 
> To everyone wondering why Victor forgave his mother, it's not because she deserves it. It's because Victor wants it. I have found through forgiving those around me, especially those that I would be close to otherwise, I've been able to be more positive and deal with problems a lot easier. I recently had to accept a few of my relatives that I wouldn't normally get along with. Forgiving them for the things they said to me was really a good thing, and it helped me get some things off my chest as well.
> 
> The point I'm trying to make is that sometimes, accepting someone's mistakes can be for yourself as well, and can help both parties learn to better understand one another!
> 
> Regardless of what you thought of that, I really do hope you liked that chapter! See you all in the last chapter!


	10. Condolences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Condolences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you to everyone who has read so far, you've all be so wonderful to me! I honestly couldn't have asked for better! I always have this huge smile on my face while reading your replies, (which is probably the reason people give me weird looks on trains) and you've all had a part to play in the creation of this!
> 
> I don't want to take up too much time, but I am glad that I was able to at the very least entertain you all with my small story about forgiveness, family, and faith.
> 
> Now, for the last time (at least here), I hope you enjoy!

Yakov did call him back.

“So let me get this straight,” He started, grumbling. “You want to forgive her.”

“Yup.”

“Despite the fact that you already have a family you can depend on.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded.

“And you are doing this because you don’t want to think about how she left you anymore?” He said apprehensively.

“That’s right.” He said, smiling. Yakov had finally got it.

“Vitya, that’s senseless.”

“Well, you saw how I was.” He said. “You knew how I felt for years.” Victor averted his eyes, memories flashing through his head, filling him with strange emotions again.

“I’m struggling to understand why forgiving her would help.” Grumbled Yakov.

“I think it’ll help me.” He said, sighing. “If anything, Yakov, it’s for me.”

“You didn’t believe in love for years.” Said Yakov. “You thought you were unlovable. Do you know how much that hurt me to see you like that?”

Victor frowned, a thorn of pain wedging itself in his chest. He remembered what that had been like, how it had almost been the end of him. A younger him had believed that if his mother could leave him like that, then everyone would. If he was so dislikeable that his own mother would drop him, that there was no way in hell that anyone else would ever even consider him as a person. He shook his head. “I know Yakov. But I need to heal.” It wouldn’t do him well to dwell in his sadness. Wallowing would get him nowhere.

“And this really will help you?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of to do.” He said. “It doesn’t mean I’ll forget what she did, or that I’ll ever even be on good terms with her. All it means is that I’ll stop making that the main ‘link’ between us.”

Yakov sighed, sipping something probably strong on the other side of the line. Probably vodka, he thought. “If it helps you, then…” He sipped his drink again, thinking. “Then I think you should do whatever it takes to help.”

Victor let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s that for?” Asked Yakov.

“No, I was just worried.”

“About what?” He chuckled.

“That you might be angry at my decision.”

“You’re a grown man, Vitya. I can’t tell you what to do. And it’s not like you listened to me anyway.”

Victor laughed. “Of course.”

“I want her number.”

“Seriously,” Asked Victor, pulling up his list of contacts.

“I would like to have a tough conversation with her.” This almost made him laugh again. Yakov and his mother both seemed like very volatile people. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere close to that conversation.

“Sure,” he said, texting him the number. “Try not to destroy her.”

“That will be very difficult.” Said Yakov. He paused for a moment to fiddle with his phone, then pressed it back up to his ear. “I am glad that you told me, Vitya.”

“I’ll always tell you everything, Yasha!”

“Sometimes even too much.” He said, a smile evident in his voice. “A little bit too much information.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you didn’t want to know,” Said Victor. “Anyways, it’s pretty late. Yuuri and I were going to go-“

“You don’t need to tell me!” Cried Yakov. “I _don’t_ want to know.”

Victor chortled. “I was going to say ‘go to sleep’, but now since you reminded me…” He teased.

“Of course you were going to say that, Vitya.” He said, shaking his head. “Because sleep is always the first thing on your mind.”

“Hey, don’t sell me short!” He cried. “Besides, Yuuri’s foot is still sore.”

“I don’t recall that ever stopping you.” Chided Yakov. “Is he recovering well?”

“He’s doing better,” Victor said. “But a week off from his skating is hardly a good thing.”

“He’ll do fine.”

“I’m sure.” He smiled, turning to run a hand through Yuuri’s soft black hair. He was hunched over his laptop, and grinned back at Victor, leaning into his touch. “So, how are your students?”

“Mila and Georgi are planning a pair skate for both their exhibitions this year. It’s something dumb, from this American movie. They think it’s hilarious.”

“They’re working together,” He said, surprised. They hadn’t really spoken all that much when he had trained under Yakov. Mila had viewed him as a bit of a joke after Anya left him.

“They are actually working well together. And it keeps her away from Yuri. You better be training hard, Vitya. Because Yuri is doing even better than I could have hoped for.”

“We will see about that,” He said. “My Yuuri is planning something big.”

“Is he now?” Said Yakov. “We will have to wait and see if that is the case then.”

“Let the best coach win.”

“Don’t get too arrogant now Vitya.” Said Yakov.

“Impossible,” He said. “You wound me!”

Yakov laughed, sighing, sipping his drink. Yuuri shut his laptop, shoving it under the bed. He removed his glasses, and shuffled underneath the covers.

“It’s very late here, Yakov. Goodnight!”

“I’ll always love you Vitya. Goodnight.”

“I love me too, Yasha.”

“Stop screwing around.” Said Yakov.

“You know I love you. Now hang up the phone so I can get some sleep.”

“Like hell, you’re going to go to sleep.”

“Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” Said Yakov.

He put his phone on the bedside table, plugging it in. Yuuri smiled up at him, opening his eyes.

“Good?” He asked, moving closer.

“I think it went okay.”

Yuuri snickered. “He sounded almost jovial.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah.”

Victor turned off the lights and sank into Yuuri’s arms. They wrapped around his stomach, spooning him. Yuuri exhaled, breathing him in.

 _I deserve love,_ he thought. _But how did I ever deserve you?_

“Yura?”

“Hmm?” Hummed Yuuri, cuddling against his back.

“I love you.” He said, sighing deeply.

“Hmm… I love you.” Said Yuuri, yawning. “Why do you think I married you?”

“Marital tax deduction.”

“Haha.”

“Filing taxes jointly?”

“Vitya…” Said Yuuri, groaning. “Please stop. I’m tired.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling contentedly as Yuuri nuzzled further into his neck. He was so clingy when they were alone together. And Victor loved it. If it was physically possible to stay in this bed forever, with Yuuri’s arms and legs tangled in his own, he would do it in a heartbeat.

 

*

 

“So, I did some digging,” Said Celestino. “But the person who took your photos doesn’t seem to have any connection to your mystery woman.”

Victor’s eyes went wide.

“Really?” He asked.

“Really. And considering that haphazardly way she posted the photos, she doesn’t have any money to gain either. I’d say,” he says, sitting back on his chair. “It was just one of your fans that followed you out.”

Yuuri rubbed Victor’s shoulder. Victor looked like he had been hit by a bus.

“Thank you, Celestino, you’ve been a huge help.” Said Yuuri. “Say hi to Phichit for me.”

“Will do!” Said Celestino. “I’m always happy to help.”

“Thank you.” Said Victor, smiling. “We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

They closed Skype, Victor sighing against him.

“Hey,” he said, holding him close. “Are you okay?”

“She didn’t take the photos,”

“No, I don’t think she did. I trust Celestino with that much.”

Victor sighed again, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and just lying there, quiet and still until their breathing synchronized.

They lay there until Victor leaned up. They kissed, breath tasting like toothpaste and green tea.

“Thank you, Yuuri. For staying with me throughout this whole mess.”

“And where else was I supposed to go, Vitya,” he said, cupping his jaw. “I’m not going to leave at the first sign of trouble.”

“I know that.” Said Victor softly.

“Then you don’t need to worry.” He whispered. “Because I’ll be here forever.”

“I know,” Said Victor.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

*

 

Victor tapped his fingers nervously against the table, thinking.

“Ok,” he said jumping up. “I’ll call her.”

“Okay.” Said Yuuri, a little bemused.

He picked up his phone, scrolling down his contacts.

He placed the phone beside his ear, and waited. Yuuri kissed him on the cheek, and then left the room. Victor might appreciate some time alone.

Thirty minutes later, he heard the door open slowly. Victor rubbed his eyes.

“Are you…” He said, wiping away the tears off of his cheeks.

“Yeah.” He nodded. They embraced, any dampness seeping into Yuuri’s clothing.

“What happened?”

“I told her I’ll call her. Occasionally.”

“And?”

“And she apologized.” Victor sniffed. “I think she’s actually sorry.”

“Okay,” he said, rubbing circles into Victor’s back.

“I think she feels terrible about it.”

“Okay,”

“I’m…” Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure what he was about to say but held him tight.

“As long as you’re happy,” he said. “I’m happy.”

“I’m fine,” said Victor.

Yuuri held him until he was sure.

 

*

 

_Bzzzzz_

_Bzzzzz_ -

“Vitya.”

“Hi,” He said, hand over his other ear. “Are you watching it now?”

“Yes, it is on the television.” She said, that strange stiff way she spoke coming through. “The skater with the blonde and red hair just finished.”

“Okay, you are a little behind then.” He said, looking out over the ice rink. Yuuri sat beside him, hands clutching tightly onto a travel mug full of hot chocolate. They watched as the clean-up crew cleared away all the sushi and onigiri cushions from the ice. Yuuri gave him a strange look, having looked at the name on the phone. But he shrugged.

“Oh, there he is.” Said his mother. “Is that another one of your old costumes?”

“Yes, from my senior debut.”

“It looks lovely. Tell him I said that.” She said.

“Sure, мамочка.”

He waited, counting down the seconds until…

“Good god, Victor, was that a quadruple axel!”

“He fell, and he landed on two feet, but it was enough rotations.” Said Victor, grinning.

“Vitya, that…” She said, gasping. “Oh, a flip at the end. As always.”

“Yes.” He said, wiping a smear of chocolate off of Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri was beaming, re-watching his own performance on his phone.

“So… that wouldn’t count, correct? The axel.”

“Unfortunately, it counted against him. But the potential is there,” He said, giving Yuuri a thumbs up. Yuuri kissed his cheek. Warm lips against his cool cheek.

“You still have NHK Trophy and the Grand Prix.”

“Yes, we still have a little time.”

“Yes.” She said, sighing. “You two have done well.”

“It was all Yuuri.” He said. “I told him not to do it.”

“Stubborn, the both of you.” She said, snorting. “So, what did he get? I can’t stand to watch the rest of these idiots.”

“Gold.” He said, watching how the light bounced off of Yuuri’s medal.

“I guess that stubbornness paid off then.”

“I suppose it did.” He said.

“Pass the phone to Yuuri, I want to congratulate him.”

Victor raised an eyebrow, pointing at the phone. Yuuri gave him a look, as if to say _don’t you dare dump this on me_. Victor nodded, placing the phone back at his ear.

“He’s getting changed now,”

“Well, tell him congratulations. That quadruple axel was…” She trailed off, losing the words.

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

“Thank you Vitya,” She said, grateful. “I’m glad you called.” And with that, the line went dead.

Victor leaned down, picking up the gold medal from Yuuri’s chest. He gave it a kiss, then another, then another before Yuuri pulled it away and replaced it with his lips.

“You keep calling her.”

“And,” he said, kissing away the remnants of chocolate from Yuuri’s smile.

“Nothing,” Said Yuuri. “Did she say something?”

“She said you looked lovely. And she congratulated you for the gold.”

“Hmm,” Said Yuuri, taking another scorching mouthful of hot liquid. They watched together, left alone as everyone cleared out. They would often stay behind, Yuuri needing a little time to steady himself before greeting the press. And after that sort-of axel, they would be coming in droves.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Yuuri shook his head. Then he turned to Victor, eyes bright. “Do you really think I can do it?”

“I think it’s a bad idea,” He said, caressing Yuuri’s leg. “I think you could get hurt.” Victor was sick of the dreams of Yuuri breaking his leg, or cracking his head open on the ice after a jump.

“Do you think I can do it,” He said, stated, staring into Victor. He was determined to get an answer. Victor sighed.

“I think you can do it. But I think the risk is too big. You can win without it.”

“Just winning, I don’t feel like that’s enough.” He said. “I want to do this.” His eyes were like stars, and it hit him hard.

“We can train.” He said. “But please don’t just try it out without asking me first. You could really get hurt, and you don’t need it to begin with.”

Yuuri nodded.

“I’ll try my best, Vitya,” he said coyly.

“Please promise me,” he said, snapping Yuuri out of it. “I was so worried today.” His horror as Yuuri had fallen still permeated his bones, infiltrating his nerves, fizzed in his blood.

Yuuri pressed a thumb against his furrowed brow, his own creasing in return. “Okay, Vitya.” He said, sighing. “Okay.”

 

*

 

Yuuri sighed as Victor walked outside.

It was his mother again. They had been calling often now, once or twice a month. They would talk for a few minutes, filling in the gaps in time between them. Sometimes, Vitya would even laugh.

Laugh. Laugh with the very person that made him feel bad all those years ago.

“She is… interesting.” Admitted Victor. Yuuri didn’t want to ask it. But was Victor clinging onto her simply because he was missing a mother figure? Surely not, he had Yuuri’s mom, but there was still that lingering doubt he held in his mind.

“Interesting?” He asked apprehensively.

“We are very similar.” Said Victor, which made Yuuri want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he made sense. Similar? To that psycho?

“What do you mean by similar?”

“We are both confident,” He said. “And we have a very similar sense of humor.”

If only this was funny.

But the calls went on.

“Oh, yes, we are considering adopting at some point,” Said Victor. Yuuri gave him a stare. _I thought I told him not to tell her that. What is he doing?_

“No, it shouldn’t be that hard, right Yuuri!” He said, grinning. Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Names? Not at the moment.” He walked off, chatting away.

But Victor seemed almost lighter than before. He didn’t hide like he used to. It was almost as if there had been some sort of barrier between them before. Hiding his past, it blocked certain things from being said. As soon as it came crashing down, it was obvious that it had been there.

“I don’t like it,” said Yuuri when asked about the phone calls. “But I don’t mind it either.”

“I just feel… better.” He said. “I can’t really explain it. It’s like I don’t even have to think about it anymore.” He sighed, smiling.

“You’re not sad about it anymore?”

Victor shook his head. “It feels like everything I worried about is gone. She doesn’t feel like that same scary force that she used to be.”

He didn’t think he could understand it. It was too sudden. His forgiveness had almost come up out of nowhere.

“Are you sure you’re not getting too attached?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling wistfully. “I’ll never forget what happened.”

He hoped so. He desperately hoped so.

 

*

 

It wasn’t that long.

Yuuri had already retired.

They now trained students at Hasetsu Ice Castle. Hasetsu was booming, and it was all because of Victor and Yuuri. Minako’s ballet studio was flourishing. She had more students than she could handle now-days.

They had buried Makkachin beside Vicchan. Victor had been inconsolable for days, unable to speak through his tears. Yuuri cried with him. Everyone did. But Makkachin had lived a good, long life, with lots of love and affection. He reminded Victor often of that, and although it didn’t make him feel better, it certainly helped. They visited the grave on the weekends, bringing picnic baskets, imagining him running through the grass, hovering around the food just waiting for some to drop.

They ran classes for children in the weekends. Yuuri loved coaching them, tiny little ice skaters, adorable grins as they tried to balance.

“What are you smiling about, hm?” Asked Victor, leaning over the barrier.

“Nothing, Vitya.” He said, laughing when Victor hugged him. “I was just thinking.”

“About what, solnyshko?”

“What if we had our own little family one day?”

“A little family of figure skaters.”

“We can’t force them to skate.”

“If they’re our children,” he said, taking a moment to admire the pink that dusted over Yuuri’s cheeks. “Then how can they possibly be bad at it.”

“I suppose so.” Said Yuuri, watching the middle schoolers attempt singles. A few of them point, and Victor smiles and waves. Of course, always the charmer.

One of the girls come back after practise to ask for an autograph. Victor is only glad to help.

Then comes a call. In the middle of summer, when the sun is bearing down on them, a call comes mid-morning. 10:23.

She’s dead, Yakov says. She died. She’s gone. Heart failure, he hears over the rush of the cicadas and the sweet songs of late morning birds.

The summer swells up in the air as he shakily puts down the phone. Yuuri notices the tears before him, wiping them away, kissing them away, and the salt on his lips.

And he promises that it’ll all be okay.

And it is.

It always is in the end.

He doesn’t cry much for her. Not as much as he cried for Makkachin, not much at all. But it leaves an impact.

Everything leaves an impact. Isn’t it impossible to go through the world without impacting something, or someone? The same goes in reverse.

But only time can tell in the end.

After all, everything needs an ending, doesn’t it?

So it’s going to be okay.

It always is, eventually, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I can't believe it's over. This was so interesting to write, and I can't wait to do more!  
> Thank you all for reading this! I will definitely be writing more Yuri On Ice in the future, so if you're interested in my work, look out for that!
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts, suggestions, complaints, spam, however this made you feel, I am happy this got the response it did! If you have any idea's for what I should do in the future, leave that as well!
> 
> I'll be answering everyone's comments and questions, so go wild!
> 
> Thanks again! You've all been amazing!

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you thought, and I might update a little more frequently!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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